


The Department of Citizen Monitoring

by TransFormativeWorks



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Government Agencies, Immortality, Male-Female Friendship, Post-Series, Reveal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransFormativeWorks/pseuds/TransFormativeWorks
Summary: Jo Martinez and Mike Hansen receive a very unusual special assignment. There is a new governmental department, the Department of Citizen Monitoring, and they are interested in a very particular type of citizen. Secrets are discovered and trust is shaken, leaving both Jo and Mike torn between their duty to their jobs and their loyalty to their friends.





	1. Chapter 1

Jo quirked an eyebrow at Hansen, ‘You have any idea what this meeting is about?’ she asked.

‘Not a clue,’ he shook his head, ‘but the Lieutenant was adamant that we be on time.’ Whatever it was, it was very important and very secret. It had taken both Jo and Mike weeks to organize all the paperwork necessary to get ‘cleared’ for whatever this assignment happened to be. Jo had never had an assignment before that required not one, but two polygraphs, a psychological evaluation and an in-person interview along with an extensive background check. Someone had even called her mother, which led to a frantic evening phone call from her family worried that she was in some kind of trouble. 

She and Hansen continued to walk down 116th Avenue toward the address that they had been given by the Lieutenant last night. She had handed it off to them as she left the precinct with a meaningful look and the obtuse statement that ‘They told me they wanted our best, and that’s you.’

Jo and Mike found themselves in front of an imposing but largely non-descript building which squatted in the centre of the block. There was no indication on the door as to what the building’s purpose was, and it looked like one of the many for-rent temporary office spaces that dotted this part of the city. 

They cautiously entered and found themselves in an unused foyer. There was a man dressed in a cheap suit standing by the elevators with a clipboard. As they walked over to him Jo noted the subtle bulge under his suit jacket indicating that he was armed, and his even more subtle government-issues earpiece. Ah, so they were dealing with the Feds. 

‘Good morning,’ the man intoned, clearly waiting for them to introduce themselves. 

‘Morning,’ Hansen gamely replied, ‘Detective’s Hansen and Martinez from the 11th Precinct.’

The man scanned his clipboard, and nodded when he found their names. Much to her surprise, he then checked both of their badges and confirmed their invitation via his radio. Jo was impressed, whatever it was, they were taking it very seriously.

After their identities had been confirmed, they were directed to take the elevator to the 6th floor. The door opened onto what Jo could only describe as a commend centre. True to her guess, the space was obviously rented out and had been filled with heavy desks pushed together in pairs and wired with multi-monitored computers and phones. Desks were labelled by precinct. Jo and Mike made their way over to the 11th precinct and found two manila envelopes with their respective names on each desk. They also found that each desk was equipped with a nameplate, an ID Badge with their photographs, and a large packet of paperwork. 

‘Huh,’ Mike murmured while examining the badge, ‘Looks like we will be working here for a while.’

Jo nodded numbly, that the hell was going on?  
Leaving their desks behind, Jo and Mike made their way over to a large briefing room. It was already half-filled with people, some of whom Jo recognized from other precincts. More people continued to arrive and the room was full by the time 9 a.m. rolled around. 

On the dot, a broad-shouldered man entered and strode up to the podium. He took a moment to plug in his computer and turn on the overhead projector. 

‘Let me get straight to the point,’ he said in a clear and powerful voice, ‘I am Agent Marquez from the Department of Citizen Monitoring – A sub-branch of the Department of Homeland Security, and I am here to talk to you about immortals.’

The room was totally silent, and after a brief pause Marquez continued, ‘The United States Government has been aware of the existence of immortals for almost 200 years….’

 

Agent Marquez’s presentation lasted almost two hours, but no one seemed inclined to take a break. To say that he was well-informed and persuasive was an understatement. Those who were not convinced by his words were going to have a hard time disputing the video clips he had presented showing a man, whose face was blurred out, being shot in the chest only to disappear and suddenly re-appear in a nearby tank of water. Alive and un-harmed. 

This clip was followed by others and additional evidence and documentation. The most striking thing was the video interview of a man who discussed his immortality, what it was like, and how long he had been alive. 205 years. The video ended.

The room was silent except for someone muttering a ‘Jesus’ in the back of the room. 

‘Now that you are aware of what we are dealing with, I bet you are wondering what this has to do with you and the NYPD,’ Marquez stated. A few heads nodded in agreement. 

‘Given the growing threat of terrorism, particularly that of an immortal suicide bomber, the US government has decided to identify and catalogue all immortals on US soil, citizen or not. Our number one priority is the security of the United States.’ He paused to make eye contact with the room. 

‘This is not to say that all immortals are dangerous, in fact, the majority of the ones we are aware of take pains to say out of the spotlight. The secondary goal of this initiative is to contact these immortals and determine their usefulness.’ Marquez noticed uncomfortable shifting in the crowd and he smoothly continued. ‘Their assistance, if valuable, will be voluntary.’

He paused again and drew a deep breath, ‘Given today’s technology it is surprising that the secret of immortality is not already public. It is only a matter of time before these people are exposed and the third goal of this initiative is to document these people and keep them out of sight. We want them to stay under the radar as long as possible. The last thing we want is a public panic.’

‘Wait a moment,’ interjected a spikey haired man in the third row. Jo recognized him as a detective from the 3rd Precinct. ‘Exactly how common are these immortals? How many people are we looking at?’

Marquez’s response was quick, ‘Rare,’ he said, ‘Very rare.’ 

‘There are currently three in the employ of the US government, and historical evidence of at least two more in the past. We have documentation from our allies of a potential half-dozen others. Most of these are also in governmental employ or confined to institutions.’

‘What do you mean confined to institutions?’ questioned the detective.

Marquez took a long time answering, ‘Prisons or mental institutions.’

Agent Marquez put up his hands to forestall additional questions, ‘Let’s take a 15 minute break,’ he said, ‘the rest of the day will be devoted to signing non-disclosure agreement and a crash course on how to identify these people.’

 

By lunchtime Jo was exhausted, bewildered, and more than a little freaked out. 

After signing a mountain of paperwork the room had been informed that their assignment would last four weeks. In that time they were to investigate all people within their jurisdiction who could be immortals and if they were to locate a potential ‘target,’ they were to bring them in for questioning. Should this confirm the presence of immortality then this person would be ‘processed’ at a governmental facility. This so-called ‘processing’ seemed to involve a medical exam, an extensive background check, a psychological evaluation, and formal registration with the US government. What would happen after that was left unclear. Unsaid but understood was that if this individual was considered an asset they would be offered a job, if they were considered a threat they would disappear. After four weeks the office would close and relocate to the next major city to perform the same process. 

All of this made sense to Jo, though she was still having a problem wrapping her head around the idea of immortality, and that immortals walked among them. Given the likelihood of actually finding one of these people she was slightly annoyed at being pulled off of homicide to go chasing unicorns. 

However, her irritation turned to alarm later in the afternoon. It was clear that the government has been conducting a lot of research. A weedy little man she had automatically started referring to as the professor spent several hours droning on about how various immortals had been identified. Along with the flukes (such as deaths and subsequent disappearance captured on tape), other immortals had been identified via a rubric of characteristics. As the Professor when through these, Jo became more and more alarmed. 

She looked over at Hansen, who also appeared to be growing increasingly uncomfortable. Perhaps sharing her thoughts, he glanced in her direction and grimaced. Yeah, they were both thinking the same thing. The similarities were alarming: widely travelled, a bit odd, anachronistic, seemingly first-hand knowledge of other time periods, questionable documentation, multi-lingual, difficulties with technology, very private, lack of a sense of self-preservation. The most damning piece was the one causing Hansen to wince. Skinny-dipping. Though the revelation that this ‘skinny-dipping’ only happened after they died was eye-opening.

They were dismissed at 5 p.m. sharp and told to report at 9a.m. the next morning. They were assured that they would all be provided with lists of ‘potentials’ that had been identified using a complex set of algorithms that Jo didn’t understand. From there they were to start their investigations. Jo didn’t need an algorithm, she already knew who she was looking into tomorrow. She and Hansen were silent as they left the building. They were already halfway back to the 11th when she finally turned to Hansen. 

‘Mike,’ she started, ‘Are you thinking what I am thinking.’

He nodded slowly, ‘Yeah,’ he replied, ‘I think I am. And I think tomorrow we need to do a little digging. It could be nothing...Its likely nothing.’ He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

‘Yeah,’ Jo replied, ‘Could be.’ Even to her own ears she didn’t sound convincing. 

‘Do we tell the Lieutenant?’ She asked.

Hansen paused before shaking his head, ‘We can’t. The agreement we signed said that we keep this to ourselves until we have confirmation. Plus, there is no reason to until we have something more concrete than ‘Henry is a bit weird’.’ A pause, ‘she knows that already.’

That comment got a snort out of Jo. ‘Yeah, you are right.’


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo and Mike start digging into Henry's past and face the dilemma between duty and friendship.

Both Jo and Hansen were back on 116th Street before 9 a.m. As promised, one each desk was a fat envelop containing a list of names and a stack of files with the basic information of each of their ‘potentials’. The list was divided into two sections. The top section contained the names of those who were considered the most likely ‘potentials’, the second section was a much longer list of people who, for whatever reason, had come to the attention of the bureau but did not fit all of the criteria. 

Jo quickly scanned the high priority list, which only contained six names. Her heart sped up as she saw the name ‘Henry Morgan’ in the middle of that list. But she wasn’t surprised given what she had heard yesterday. If Henry was immortal he wasn’t doing a very good job of keeping a low profile. 

Hansen let out a heavy exhale, obviously seeing Henry’s name on the list as well. He shook his head in what she recognised as frustration and looked across his desk at Jo. ‘Okay,’ he said slowly, ‘It looks like we really are going to do this.’ 

He paused, and then gave a meaningful eye to Jo ‘Listen,’ he continued slowly, ‘I think it is better if I take point on Henry. I don’t know what your relationship is with each other and it doesn’t matter. But we need to keep all of this above board and avoid what could be perceived as conflicts of interest.’

At seeking Jo open her mouth is what was obviously going to be an argument, Hansen quickly continued ‘I will keep you updated on everything, I promise.’ He leaned in closer and lowered his voice, ‘I also consider Henry a friend. It is better if we are the ones doing the digging then someone who doesn’t know him.’

Jo looked at Hansen. She couldn’t really argue with him, as much as she wanted to. ‘Okay,’ she agreed. 

She and Hansen split up the list of the six ‘most likely’ candidates and dug into the files. As part of their special assignment they had been given access to many more resources then they were used to. Even knowing this, they were both surprised to meeting their ‘assistant’ who arrived promptly at 9 a.m with a latte for Jo and a black coffee for Hansen. He was a sharp-eyed young man named Andrew, who had obviously done this before. His emphasis on the work anything gave Jo the impression that Andrew’s security clearance was somewhere above hers. She looked again at her coffee, realizing that Andrew knew both of their regular orders and he had never met them before. 

Regardless, he seemed nice enough and proved to be terrifyingly efficient, looking up records for one of Jo’s potentials in under 20 minutes. This alone was impressive enough, not to mention that these records were from Germany, in the 1960s. Yeah, there was more to Andrew than met the eye. 

 

The first week on special assignment slipped quickly by and Jo and Mike were able to disqualify four of their six candidates. Henry wasn’t one of them. The remaining two happened to be on Mike’s list to Jo started to work her way down the longer list of ‘less likely’ candidates.

Occasionally, she would look around the room at the other detectives from the various precincts. Quick chats in the break room revealed to her that the vast majority were having just as much luck as she was – that is to say none at all. What they did find was a lot of identity theft as people variously attempted to hide from the law, keep getting Social Security, or simply trying to start over. These cases were passed on to the pertinent precincts across the city. 

However, it soon became clear that there were a few people who merited more investigation and as the wheat became separated from the chaff the natural blood-hound tendencies that had made these people good detectives in the first place started to come out. 

The second week was spent eliminating the remaining potentials either through interviews or more research. None of the ones brought in turned out to be what they were looking for (though one was arrested on an outstanding warrant under their real name).

By the end of the second week most people’s lists were empty; only four names remained out of all the ones listed for New York City. Jo and Mike’s list happened to have to one of those remaining names. The detectives that had finished their lists were re-assigned to the remaining active cases and Jo and Mike were soon joined by six additional detectives. 

‘Wait,’ said detective Stevens from the 2nd Precinct, catching sight of the remaining name on their list. He then turned to look at Jo and Mike and raised an eyebrow, ‘Isn’t this…?’ He didn’t finish the sentence. ‘Yeah,’ Mike nodded, ‘it is.’

Friday at the end of the second week found Mike and Jo down at the Bar. Neither felt like talking, but they also didn’t feel like going home.

Placing his second beer on the table Mike turned to Jo, frustration writ large across his features. ‘I have done the best detective work of my life over the past two weeks Jo, and I have done it for the wrong reasons. Everything I have done in the past two weeks has been to prove that Henry is nothing more then he seems. Just a weird and slightly creepy guy who works at the morgue and reads too many books.’

Jo tilted her head to indicate she was listening. Mike sighed and scrubbed his hands across his face. ‘Instead, I think I have only managed to put together a very solid case that Henry is…’ Mike paused, clearly searching for the right word. He finally compromised ‘…a lot older then he appears.’

‘What are we doing, Jo?’ He asked plaintively. The question was loaded with meaning but Jo couldn’t give him the reassurance he was clearly hoping for. Instead she gave him honesty.

‘We are doing our jobs, Mike’ she said, ‘which is to find out the truth, even if we don’t like it.’


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evidence keeps piling up as Henry's past and its many secrets are uncovered.

The end of the third week Jo and Mike were standing around a conference room table with the others on their team. They were looking over a slew of papers, old files, newspaper clippings, and photos. Andrew had worked his magic and had complied an amazing wealth of documents from several different countries and the New York City Archives.

On the wall across from the door was a photo of Henry, the one taken for his ID badge at the 11th Precinct and below it was a timeline that they had spent the last three weeks establishing. Starting from today the timeline stretch back with notations here and there up until the very end of the 18th Century; it stretched from one end of the room to the other. 

For the first few days Jo had been able to maintain her disbelief, but the evidence before her was incontrovertible. 

Yes, Henry had gone to the University of Guam, but only as a refresher course for his medical degree. The documents from Guam showed him his original degree as being from the University of Edinburgh. However, when they contacted that University the only record they had of a Henry Morgan graduating with a medical degree was in 1904. Andrew had even managed to get his hands on a photo of that class, which showed a man of similar height and build to Henry. But it was grainy enough that they couldn’t be sure. 

Mike had also contacted Oxford, as it was listed on Henry’s employment record. A Henry Morgan had indeed graduated from Oxford, but in 1804. Jo didn’t know what to make of that. 

Now that they knew what to look for, it was easy to find evidence of Henry in New York. More specifically, there was a litany of police reports documenting Henry’s tendency to end up in the East River at all hours without appropriate swim wear. An earnest young detective from the 22nd was in charge of searching out each of these reports. Upon hearing Jo’s request that he look into Henry’s skinny-dipping past he had remarked, ‘You know, it was funny when I first heard about the skinny dipping ME at the 11th.' He paused and considered his words, ‘It’s not so funny now that I know it only happened because somehow, somewhere, he actually died.’

The young detective was thorough, and much to everyone’s surprise the reports of a Henry Morgan being arrested for skinny-dipping went back to the turn of the century. Sure, the gaps between reports sometimes spanned decades, but each time the physical description and location were the same. Booking photos for him only went back as far at the 1980s, But each one showed a wet and shame-faced Henry. Every single photo was the same, Henry never aged. 

\------

Halfway into the week they got the box they had been waiting for, a special delivery from the UK. It appeared that the UK version of the Department of Citizen Monitoring has a file on Henry too, and somehow Andrew had managed to get his hands on it. 

Jo has been expecting an envelope or a small file folder but this was a legitimate box. It probably weighed ten pounds and its mid-morning delivery left everyone around the table staring at it with a mixture of intense curiosity and dread. 

Mike, scoffing at the look at everyone’s faces, flipped open his pocket knife and cut open the box. ‘Alright everyone, grab a file. Let’s get this done.’

Starting from the top, the files were arranged in chronological order, the ‘newest’ being be the service record of one Henry Morgan, who served as a doctor during World War II. Clipped to the front of the folder, was a photo of a man in a military uniform with a very recognizable smile. The pictures were so similar to their Henry that not even a family resemblance or the sepia color of the photo could explain it away. 

‘Oh, Henry,’ Jo muttered at the same time Mike let out a ‘Geezus.’ They looked at each other and Mike shrugged, ‘I never took Henry for a military guy.’

The second folder in the box didn’t belong to Henry but instead was the service record of a British Nurse also serving during the war. The nurse’s name was Abigail Rayne. Mike and Jo exchanged additional glances. ‘Wasn’t Henry’s wife’s name Abigail?’ Mike asked. Jo nodded silently and opened the folder. She was only a little surprised to see that the service photo of Abigail was a younger version of the woman in the photo Jo had seen at Henry’s home. 

The next document was another military service record, this one for World War I. While this one did not have a photo, it had a service record and several copies of some of the doctor’s reports and notes. Jo looked at the signature on the bottom of the report, as it was the same one that was on the bottom of the autopsy reports that she received. She would recognize that signature anywhere.

It took them half the day to get the bottom of the box, and Jo was breathless the entire time. It was like reading a life story in reverse. A very long life of someone she had thought she knew. Just when Jo managed to wrap her head around one amazing new facet of Henry another one would turn up. 

The clipping of the doctor in London running into a building to safe a child actually made her smile – Jo recognized Henry’s heroics when she saw them. Apparently, his lack of self-preservation goes way back. 

Henry had not one, not two, but three medical degrees. ‘No wonder he knows so much,’ muttered Mike.

He had emigrated to the United States four times, twice through Ellis Island. 

He had been married before, back in the late 1700s, to a woman named Nora. Jo was sad there were no photographs because she wondered what Henry’s first wife had looked like.

Near the end of the day, Mike had turned to her wide-eyed and handed her a very thin file. It was adoption paperwork from 1945. Jo read it curiously, then stopped and read it again once she saw the name of the child.

‘No,’ she looked at Mike, her mouth gaping, ‘Abe is Henry's _son?!? _’__

____

They stared at each other until Mike broke the moment with a wry ‘Yeah, even in all this weirdness I didn’t see that one coming.’ Jo shut her mouth with a snap and snorted. Their chuckles then evolved into a full on fits of laughter. Wiping her eyes, Jo finally replied ‘You know, Henry makes a whole lot more sense now.’ Once she knew about it the relationship between Abe and Henry was so obvious she was embarrassed she had not recognized it before. 

____

It was several more moments before she made the connection. ‘Wait,’ she said looking at the adoption paperwork. 'If Henry was Abe’s father and Abigail was his mother…then…’ She quickly dug through the mounds of paperwork spread out over her desk. ‘Wasn’t Abe’s mother Sylvia Blake?’ 

____

Jo found what she was looking for, Abigail’s service record and a missing person’s report for an Abigail Morgan that was filed in 1985, a report filed by Henry.

____

She took the two records and compared them to the autopsy report of Sylvia Blake. Everything matched. The height, hair, estimated age. Jo felt her heart break a little. Mike had moved behind her and was looking over her shoulder. 

____

He was able to vocalize it before she was. ‘So Sylvia Blake was Abigail Morgan,’ he said slowly, ‘Henry’s wife.’

____

‘Yeah,’ was Jo’s response, ‘No wonder he was so upset. She had been missing for thirty years and then he finds out that she was murdered.’

____

Mike shifted closer to Jo, making sure no one could hear them. ‘I don’t know about you,’ he said, ‘but I feel like a total jerk going through Henry’s life like this.’ Jo nodded and he continued, ‘We are his friends. And friend’s don’t do this to each other.’

____

Jo didn’t know what to say. Henry had not been very discrete, as evidenced by his presence on the potentials list. If it hadn’t been Jo and Mike it would have been someone else. For some reason, that did not make her feel any better. 

____

‘I know,’ was all she could say, sharing the same discomfort Mike obviously felt. ‘I know.’

____

\-----

____

 

____

The rest of the week was spent sifting through all the documents they had found and verifying facts. Henry’s life was like an intricately woven tapestry. As they started to pull strings it was all becoming unraveled. 

____

Now that they had a name, Andrew was able to find up a copy of a marriage license and marriage certificate for a Henry Morgan and Abigail Rayne from New York issued in 1956. Henry had once told her that Abigail had ‘come to her senses’ and left him, but neither she nor Andrew could find evidence of a divorce. 

____

Andrew also managed to find a photo of Henry and Abigail at a charity from that same year held at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The photos showed a smiling couple done up in the fashion of the time. Abigail was stunning. Jo wondered if that was why Henry avoided the Museum. Good memories were always the hardest to get over, and they looked so very happy. 

____

Jo was working her way through the university records sent over from Oxford when her attention was drawn to Mike. At the present moment he was near the end of what was clearly an old file and was leaning back in his chair rubbing his eyes. He looked upset.

____

Concerned, Jo but down her folder and leaned across her desk, ‘Mike, you okay?’ She asked softly. Maybe he needed a coffee break.

____

Her alarm increased when Hansen didn’t respond but instead just shook his head. He leaned forward and put his arm on his knees, ‘I had no idea,’ he whispered to no one in particular. 

____

Truly alarmed now, Jo go up and walked around the desk to his side. She noticed that the others on their team had also noticed his distress and were looking over in concern. 

____

‘Mike, what is it?’ She asked leaning against the side of his desk. 

____

" _It _’, he emphasized the word, ‘was torture, Jo,’ Mike’s voice was low but forceful. It was also loud enough that whatever activity that has still been going on in the room stilled. He noticed the silence, and abruptly got up and started pacing back and forth in the tiny space between rows of desks. Hansen was one of the most laid-back people she knew and she had never seen him like this. They had the whole room’s attention now, all eyes drawn to Mike’s pronouncement.__

______ _ _

‘What do you mean, torture,’ she asked calmly, not wanting to upset him any further but needing to know what he was talking about. 

______ _ _

Mike stopped his pacing, and ran his hands through his hair. For a brief moment Jo actually thought he was going to cry. His face flashed from pain into anger and he gestured harshly at the file still open on his desk. 

______ _ _

‘What they did to him! What they did to Henry! It is the only word I can use to describe the ‘treatment’ they put him through.’ He unnecessarily added air quotes to the word ‘treatment.’

______ _ _

Jo knew her mouth was hanging open as she starred at Mike, who had returned to his pacing. She turned to look at the folder on his desk. It was one of the earliest sources they had on Henry, and it dated back to the early 19th Century. She turned the file toward her and started to read.

______ _ _

‘This is from a hospital,’ she commented, more as an explanation to her audience then to Mike. ‘It says ‘Bethlehem Royal Hospital.’’

______ _ _

‘Hospital is not what I would call it,’ Mike scoffed. ‘That place was not hospital! It was an insane asylum where they tried to torture people back into sanity.’

______ _ _

Jo looked more closely at the file. The script was cramped and hard to read but she was able to see that it was a patient record for one Henry Morgan. ‘Henry was at an asylum?’ she said numbly.

______ _ _

Mike seemed to suddenly run out of steam at Jo’s question. Several of their co-workers had moved over to Hansen’s desk to also look at the file. Seeing their interest he spoke up.

______ _ _

‘Yeah, for almost a year. It turns out his first wife had him committed because he believed he was immortal.’ From the way he said it you could tell that the irony was not lost on him. Hansen slumped against the edge of his desk and shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘They thought he was delusional and didn’t buy his story about the ship and going overboard.’

______ _ _

‘Jesus, Jo,’ he continued quietly, ‘I get it now…. If what happened to Henry in there had happened to me I would never tell anyone the truth. ’ Mike had gone from anger back to upset again, his voice growing softer, ‘Ever.’ 

______ _ _

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

______ _ _

Marquez stood in the briefing room and surveyed the gathered detectives and assistants. They had started out with lists of several hundred and, after three weeks of work, had reduced their potentials list to two names. 

______ _ _

He looked past the scattered desks to the two conference rooms in the back that has been taken over by timelines and stacks of files. To be honest, he was surprised they had found anyone. He had been at this job for almost five years and count on one hand the number of immortals they had found. Finding one was always a thrill. Of those, one had found refuge in the church, one was in the military (doing what, even he didn’t have the security clearance to find out), and another permanently housed in a psychiatric hospital. There had been only one who was living any resemblance of what he would consider a ‘normal’ life, and this person was a mild-mannered school teacher (and had been for the past 100 years). They last one, a drifter with an alarming lack of empathy, had been recruited into governmental service. As to what had happened to her after that, he didn’t know. In terms of immortality they had ranged in longevity from what he considered ‘newly immortal’ at less than 100 years old, to over 800. 

______ _ _

He walked closer to the two conference rooms. The one on the left contained the information on one Leslie Elliot. From the reports he knew that Ms. Elliot had been born in the early years of the 20th century, something like 1909. She seemed to have lived a normal life up until her first apparent ‘death’ in a fire in Harlem in 1940. From there, she seemed to have made a place for herself in New York and showed up regularly in family photos, urban legends, and the underground voodoo scene. It was likely her contact with Voodoo, along with the relatively transient nature of that population, which had allowed her to explain away the fact that she never aged. But apparently she did die, and she had been arrested for skinny-dipping in the Hudson River twice in the past ten years. They had figured out she had used her grand-daughter’s name to bail out, but the booking photo revealed someone very different from the person shown on her grand-daughter’s driver’s license. 

______ _ _

They had grainy photos of what could be her from a CCTV camera from earlier this month. Once they had an address for her they were going to pick her up. While not entirely sold, Marquez was hopeful. 

______ _ _

He turned his attention to the next conference room. Doctor Henry Morgan. Marquez’s eyes traced the timeline set up along the back wall which stretched all the way back to 1779. Dr. Morgan was as close to a sure thing as he had ever seen; the evidence was so convincing. The only problem was that, as he had discovered, Dr. Morgan worked for the NYPD and as such was considered part of the Thin Blue Line. It also appeared that the two detectives in charge of Dr. Morgan’s file were also his personal friends. This was a complication that frankly Marquez had not anticipated and did not need.

______ _ _

That being said, both Detectives Hansen and Martinez had remained professional and he was willing to let things stand as long as they didn’t get in the way. In some ways, their relationship with Dr. Morgan could be advantageous. They knew him personally and he hoped that meant they could bring him in with little fuss.

______ _ _

Marquez had already informed Washington of the presence of both potential immortals and a team was being readied and flown to New York. With any luck both of them would be in custody by the end of the week and Marquez, for one, would sleep a little better at night.

______ _ _

\----  
Things were escalating quickly and Mike had called the Lieutenant two days ago to bring her into the loop. Much to their relief, and Marquez’s consternation, the Lieutenant had shown up at their temporary office with a demand to be fully briefed. After some phone calls by both Reece and Marquez she had gotten what she wanted, and had spent the better part of the afternoon catching up with Jo and Mike.

‘So you mean to tell me that Henry, our ME, is actually an immortal man from the 18th century?’ Reece had stated after Jo and Mike had run out of steam.

‘Yep,’ Mike answered. They were all in the conference room which held Henry’s timeline. The files and photos documenting what they knew of his life were layered conference room table. 

Reece continued to stare at the timeline pinned to the wall, her eyes finally landing on one of the photos of Henry captured in the 1950s on a doorstep somewhere in New York. He was standing next to Abigail who was holding a baby they had determined was Abe. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at the photo. 

‘If I didn’t have all of this in front of me, and if it weren’t coming from you two, I wouldn’t believe it.’ 

Jo couldn’t tell if she was angry or not but she was very glad that the Lieutenant was here. Reece also knew Henry, despite his being weird and apparently immortal, she knew he was not a danger to anyone. Jo wanted to protect him and she knew that with the Lieutenant on board she would have a much easier time doing that. 

Reece suddenly barked with laughter. “Jesus, Henry,’ she scolded, as though he were standing here, ‘I should have known that when something this crazy happens in my precinct it would have something to do with you.’

Reece turned her gaze from the photos to Mike and Jo. ‘Just to clarify,’ she pinned them both with an intense gaze, ‘what crimes has Henry actually committed?’

‘Well,’ Mike cleared his throat, ‘there are a lot of forged documents such as leases and driver’s licenses. He is not so much pretending to be someone else as pretending to be the same person but younger. Also, his CV is mostly true but the dates are wrong. His degree from Guam is actually real, it just isn’t the only medical degree he has. Oh, and he was never a gravedigger. As far as we can tell he has been a doctor for the past 200 years.’ Mike trailed off and then said to no one in particular ‘this is the weirdest conversation I have ever had...’

Jo picked up the conversation, ‘While we won’t know for sure until we talk to Henry, my guess is that he has also falsified police reports.’ She internally grimaced but wanted to lay everything out, ‘he has also likely tampered with evidence and hindered police investigations.’

Reece paused at this, ‘Falsified and tampered how?’ she asked.

‘Ummm…’Jo continued. Mostly, he has cut out the parts where we think he was killed and instead made something else up. He has then tampered with evidence in order to support those stories.’

‘Died,’ Reece stated, it wasn’t really a question but Jo answered anyway. ‘Yeah,’ at least twice. Maybe more.’

‘In the line of duty?’

‘Um, yeah.’

‘Has he been doing anything else illegal, excluding doing things to cover up his apparent immortality?’

Both Jo and Mike paused a moment to think. Joe turned to Mike and shrugged her shoulders, she couldn’t think of anything. Apparently, neither could he.

‘Not that we know of,’ he said. 

Reece nodded, she did not appear surprised. ‘Okay,’ she mused before capturing Jo and Mike with her dark eyes. ‘In your opinions, is he dangerous?’

Jo paused, recognising the importance of this question. Mike answered first, ‘No,’ he said, ‘I think he is just trying to live his life.’ Reece turned her attention to Jo. ‘I don’t know,’ she finally answered much to her own surprise, ‘The henry I know isn’t, but I guess I don’t know Henry as well as I thought.’

Reece considered this, ‘Okay,’ she said seemingly coming do a decision. “I won’t prevent Henry from being brought in but I want you two to do it. I will listen in during the pick up. I also want one of you there with him during this process. I don’t trust the Feds regardless of they say. Get the full story from Henry if you can.’ She glanced again around the conference room, 

‘Alright,’ she finally said, ‘Let’s go talk to Henry.’


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team is all set, and Mike and Jo go to bring in Henry. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Reece makes plans in the background.

Jo and Mike sat at the front of the briefing room, which was packed to the gills with all the detectives now assigned to Henry’s case as well as the team of feds that had flown in overnight. Jo looked around, she had taken out mob bosses with less fanfare and she was a bit alarmed by the militaristic look of the team from Washington. She was even more concerned about the team of ‘medical professionals’ that were brought in. What exactly was involved in registering an immortal?

Four detectives were already outside Abe’s Antiques, and had been since early afternoon. Much to Jo’s relief Lieutenant Reece and another Lieutenant were also in the room. Though Marquez didn’t know it, Reece had briefed the Chief of Police last night. Though she had not gone into the specifics of what was discussed, Reese had entered the briefing room with a reassuring smile and nod. 

True to her word, Reece had also gotten Marquez to assign Jo and Hansen as the point people for picking up Henry. The plan was to stop by Abe’s Antiques after the store was closed and Henry was home alone. For obvious reasons, the Feds didn’t want to pick up Henry from work.

Jo and Mike were to go into the store and convince Henry to come with them. If Henry refused, they were to leave and the team of four special-forces looking guys would take over. Jo and Mike had privately concluded that this wasn’t an option either of them were going to allow to happen. 

The other members of the team would either set up a perimeter around the antique store or be spaced out evenly along the shores of the East River where Henry had been arrested for skinny-dipping. Jo wouldn’t even had considered doing this, and it made her heart race that a potential outcome of tonight’s meeting with Henry was his death, even if it was only temporary. 

The whole process put Jo’s teeth on edge. Henry was her friend, maybe something more, and here she was in a briefing determining how to bring him in against his will so that he could be interrogated by a shadowy governmental agency. Over a week ago she considered pulling out her phone and texting Abe a quick ‘Get Henry out of town’ warning. But she already knew it was too late. Henry’s secret was out and he could either face it here, where he had allies, or face it by himself later. 

The briefing wound down and they all piled in to a half dozen nondescript black sedans that were parked along the curb. Three pull out and headed in the direction of the East River and the other three headed to the Lower East Side. 

 

\---

 

Jo shared a vehicle with Reece, Marquez, Mike and Andrew - who had turned out to be in charge of the microphone’s she and Mike were to wear. They both sat patiently while Andrew threaded the microphones through their clothing, secured battery packs to their belts, and fiddled with the earpieces they were given.

‘Okay,’ he said once everything was in place, ‘these are sensitive enough to pick up everything that is said but there is no video so please try to vocalize what you are doing.’ He flicked a button on the control panel in his lap, ‘once these are on, everyone on the team can hear what you are saying. They can also speak directly to you through your earpieces. Try not to respond when we are talking to you. Any questions?’ She and Mike shook their heads, they had each done enough undercover work to know the drill. 

Once the microphones were set silence filled the SUV, the only noise rustling as Agent Marquez organized a set of notes. Unexpectedly, he cleared his throat, drawing their attention. 

‘Before you make contact with Dr. Morgan, there is something else about his past you should know.’

Both Jo and Mike turned to him, but remained silent. He shuffled his notes and his feet. 

Marquez took a deep breath, ‘what you are about to hear is on a ‘need-to-know-basis’ and was only shared by our English counterparts on the under the strict conditions that this information only be given to a select few.’

Only after everyone acknowledged Marquez’s statement did he continue. ‘Dr. Morgan’s condition came to the attention of the British military some time in 1916 after he was witnessed disappearing after sustaining an injury. He was then transferred to a military research facility.’ Marquez paused again and rubbed the bridge of his nose; he shuffled his notes again, even though he wasn’t looking at them.

‘While it appears that his participation in these experiments was initially voluntary, his later involvement was not. There is a very high likelihood that Dr. Morgan will not be favourably disposed to come with you given his past experiences.’

‘Wait,’ Mike broke in, ‘are you saying Henry was held against his will and experimented on my his own government?’

To his credit Marque didn’t beat abound the bush, ‘Yes, ‘ he said, ‘you can see why the British government is interested in keeping these records contained.’

‘What did they do to him?’ Jo asked.

‘I am not at liberty to tell you,’ from the pinched look on Marquez’s face, she decided that maybe she didn’t want to know.

‘Okay, why did they let him go?’ Mike asked. 

Marquez was shaking his head even before the questions was asked, ‘They didn’t. He disappeared one night near the end of 1917. We can only assume he either found a way out or committed suicide to escape. As you know, the next record we have of him is his arrival in the United States in 1920.’

Jo leaned back and rubbed her eyes. It seemed that Henry’s past just got more and more complicated. Her heart ached and she felt a swell of protectiveness. 

__

__

___‘Agent Marquez, what _exactly_ is going to happen to Henry after we pick him up?’ Her tone was bordering on disrespectful but she didn’t care. ___

____Marquez was expecting the question, ‘As noted before, his timeline will be clarified, he will undergo an medical evaluation, answer all the questions we deem necessary, and then we will determine if he is a threat to the security of the United States. If he is, he will be taken into custody and transferred to a governmental facility. If not, he will be registered and given options for how to proceed.’_ _ _ _

____Jo wasn’t entirely comfortable with that non-answer and she was about to challenge Marquez to explain further when Lieutenant Reece caught her eye. With a slight shake of her head, Reece let Jo know that she should drop the subject. Jo quirked an eyebrow at Reece who actually gave her a faint smile. Agent Marquez, who was sitting next to the Lieutenant, did not see the exchange, but Mike did._ _ _ _

____‘Detective Martinez, Detective Hansen, your job is to bring Henry in safely,’ the Lieutenant interrupted. To Marquez, who didn’t know her, it likely sounded like a reprimand. To both Jo and Mike, they realized it for what it was. A promise that she had something else planned._ _ _ _

____They spent the rest of the ride in silence, and though the ride was almost an hour with traffic, they pulled up a block from Abe’s Antiques much more quickly than Jo was prepared. The other two cars continued past, one pulling into a side street on the other side of the building and one heading around the block to the back of the building._ _ _ _

____Marquez confirmed via radio that Henry had arrived home about two hours ago. Abe had left shortly thereafter (to go to his bowling league if Jo remembered correctly). A few more minutes confirmed that the teams on the river were in place. Everything was ready to go._ _ _ _

____Marquez nodded at Jo and Mike then radioed that they were going to attempt to make contact. Lieutenant Reece exited the car with them, and by her body language indicated she wanted a word. On the sidewalk she very intentionally closed the sedan’s door on the curious faces of Agent Marquez and Andrew. ‘I know this is Henry,’ she said, ‘and I know that your feelings about this operation are complicated, ‘ this was clearly directed at Jo. ‘Also,’ Reece continued with a faint smile, ‘knowing Henry, he is probably going to overreact. Remember to be professional and calm. Convince him that this needs to be dealt with and that cooperation is in his own self-interest.’_ _ _ _

____Both Jo and Mike understood Reece’s implied message. They needed to convince Henry they were the good guys. Jo wasn’t sure about Mike, but she wasn’t entirely sure she they _were _the good guys.___ _ _ _

______Mike and Jo made their way down the sidewalk. Jo felt like a rookie, her heart was pounding and her palms were sweating. She licked her lips and tried to swallow. Mike appeared no better, and as they stepped up to Abe’s Antique she heard a muttered ‘Let’s just get this over with.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Jo rapped loudly on the door, and briefly hoped Henry wouldn’t answer. Or that the other’s had been wrong and he was out. No such luck, and in a few moments she saw the light blink on in the stairwell leading up to the apartment. A moment later Henry appeared, bounding down the stairs still dressed in his waistcoat and tie. Jo caught her breath. She had not seen him in three weeks, and for some reason she had expected him to look different, but he didn’t, he still looked just like the same old Henry._ _ _ _ _ _

______Henry briefly smiled when he saw Mike and Jo at the door but his expression morphed to a frown when he got a closer look at their faces. Crossing the shop with long strides he quickly unlocked to door._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Detectives,’ he greeted, his voice was a mixture of curiosity and concern. ‘Is everything alright? What brings you by at this hour?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Hey, Henry,’ it was Mike who spoke first. ‘Do you mind if we come in for a minute?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Mike’s tone caused Henry to give them another concerned look but he stepped back and gestured them into the shop. ‘Do you want to head upstairs?’ he asked, sensing they wanted to talk about something._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘No,’ was Mike’s response, ‘I think it is best if we do this here.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Jo glanced from Mike to Henry and back again. Mike was looking at the floor and she realized that neither of them would meet Henry’s eyes. Henry noticed it too, and he took an additional step back. She felt like Judas. The silence drew out._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Okaaaay,’ Henry finally drawled, not one to be comfortable with silence, ‘Detectives, is something wrong?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Yes, there is,’ Jo finally found her voice slowly. Henry drew a breath and she could tell he was about to start bombarding her with questions, his interest piqued. She interrupted, suddenly tired of tiptoeing around their reason for being here. ‘We know, Henry,’ she said, meeting his eyes for the first time._ _ _ _ _ _

______Henry cocked his head to the side, ‘Know what, exactly?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘We know about you. All of it,’ Jo pushed ahead, ‘Nora. The Empress of Africa, the immortality. Abigail. Abe is your son. We know.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Beside her she could feel Mike stiffen and heard him draw in his breath, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at Henry. Part of her still held out the hope that this was all some sort of grand mistake and that Henry would deny it all. That he would have a convenient explanation for the weird coincidences that seemed to make up his life._ _ _ _ _ _

______But Henry didn’t deny anything. She watched as all the blood drained from his face and his posture changed from interest to fear. Panic flitted across his features._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘How…what?’ He started and then sputtered to a stop. He vigorously shook his head and then again looked at Jo and Mike and plastered a smile onto his face._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I am entirely sure that I don’t know what you are talking about.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Jo almost smiled. Henry was a terrible lair._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Really,’ said Jo, pressing forward with several deliberate steps. ‘So you aren’t Henry Morgan, born in 1779 to Robert and Martha Morgan? You weren’t on the Empress of Africa when you were shot and thrown overboard in 1814? You didn’t serve in both world wars as a doctor? You didn’t marry a woman named Abigail, and adopt your son, Abraham, in 1945?’ Jo’s voice remained steady as she moved towards Henry._ _ _ _ _ _

______At each declaration she again expect him to say something, to shake his head or offer an explanation. But he didn’t, he just looked at her and said nothing, backing away from her and Mike as if her words caused him pain. By the time she was finished Henry had backed himself into a corner between a display case and Abe’s desk, his fists clenched._ _ _ _ _ _

______She paused to take a breath but found that she didn’t want to say more. Henry’s silence, and the riot of emotions that were clearly consuming him were answer enough. All three of them stood for a long moment, Jo and Mike still, Henry taking a few halting breathes before he looked up at them._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘How…?’ Henry started, but did not finish._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Does it matter?’ Jo countered._ _ _ _ _ _

______At this, Henry faintly smiled. ‘I suppose not.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______More silence as Henry opened and closed his hands, his right hand strayed to the pocket that held his watch, he then straightened is immaculate waistcoat._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘I never meant to lie to you,’ he murmured, glancing down, ‘Please, you have to believe that.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Henry,’ Mike broke the silence, ‘we need you to come with us.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Henry’s eyes were filled with alarm and suspicion, ‘Why?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Mike tried to deflect, ‘Henry, just come with us. We need you to answer some questions.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______There was a long pause as Henry considered Mike’s words, ‘Who is ‘we’?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Damn, Jo knew he wasn’t going to make this easy. When neither she nor Mike answered right away, Henry’s eyes raked over Jo and Mike like it was the first time he had seen them. He then glanced quickly out of the windows toward the street._ _ _ _ _ _

______Jo opted for honesty, ‘The US government has been identifying immortals. It identified you. That was the special assignment we have been on for the past three weeks.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Henry froze at that. If anything he grew paler, Jo saw his hands start to shake before he quickly shoved them into his pockets. His eyes turned from the windows and back to them. ‘This isn’t a request, is it?’ It wasn’t really a question._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘It’s just a friendly chat,’ Hansen replied, trying to lower the tension in the room and reassure Henry._ _ _ _ _ _

______Henry gave Mike an lopsided smile, ‘Detective Hansen,’ he said, ‘most friendly chats don’t require firearms, handcuffs, and microphones’ Henry gave both Mike and Jo very pointed looks. She shouldn’t be surprised that he had noticed this wasn’t just a casual visit, or that they were wired._ _ _ _ _ _

______Jo ignored Henry’s observation and chanced a step forward, with her hands out in front of her in an appeasing gesture, ‘You are right Henry, this isn’t a request. We still need answers. Come with us and nothing bad will happen to you, I promise.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Her last few words caused Henry to switch from fear to something else. It took Jo a moment to recognize it: anger. The kind of anger that is quiet, dangerous, and simmering beneath the surface. He blinked slowly, looked her straight in the eye, his lips moving into a bitter line. ‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep detective,’ he admonished quietly. ‘I have believed promises such as that more than once, and I have never failed to be disappointed.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Jo and Mike both winced, and she knew that Henry had seen their reactions. His shoulders straightened and he seemed to come back to himself. Henry’s eyes quickly scanned the exits, noting first the front door (she and Mike were in the way), the stairs to the apartment (it would only delay the inevitable) and the back door (his best bet, but he would still have to get out of the corner he was trapped in). His eyes settled down to his left, tense, but not indicating he was planning to run._ _ _ _ _ _

______Jo had understood what he was doing as he scanned the exits, and felt a glimmer of hope when she realized he wasn’t going to try and run. It took her far longer to realize that he hadn’t given up, he was just looking for another way out; a way that she would not have considered. Too slowly, both she and Hansen realized he was not looking at the floor, but at the display case to his left. It contained a beautiful set of fine silver cutlery. A set that was sure to contain knives. Henry’s hand was already partway into the display case by the time Jo realized what he was going to do._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘ _Don’t you dare _’ she snarled, lunging across the room and smacking Henry across the face with the full force of her right arm. Henry, clearly not expecting Jo’s speed or aggression, didn’t respond quickly enough and took the hit hard across his left cheek. She wasn’t holding back and the slap staggered him, forcing him to take several steps to his right away from the case and danger.___ _ _ _ _ _

________Henry was bent over with his hand on his cheek when Jo grabbed him by his vest and hauled him upright before giving him a good shake. Using her grip on his vest as leverage, she got within inches of his face and stared right into his watering eyes, ‘For God’s sake Henry,’ she hissed, ‘I am not going to stand by and let you hurt yourself, even if you can’t die!’ She shook him again before stopping and trying to pull herself together. She lowered her voice and suddenly wished she didn’t have a microphone to worry about. ‘You are going to have to deal with this some day.’ This was more of a plea then anything else._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Henry didn’t respond, nor did he react when Mike swiftly stepped behind him and twisted his wrists into a pair of handcuffs. He just looked at Jo, eyes wide and watering, emotions she couldn’t recognize playing across his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________‘Death isn’t a way out this time, Henry,’ Mike said from behind him, he was almost apologizing, ‘There are people waiting for you at the river. There is nowhere else for you to go.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The words hung in the air, taking on ever more weight as Henry digested their meaning. He couldn’t hide the betrayal that flashed across his features. Jo’s heart broke, and she hated more than anything that they were the one who had put that look on his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Henry’s gaze flickered from Jo around the antique shop and what she now realized were likely personal reminders of his very long life. Fondness crossed his features, and he seemed to be taking it all in and saving what he saw to memory. He finally turned his eyes back to Jo, ‘My life here is over, isn’t it?’ He asked softly; referring to more that just the store._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________‘I am sorry, Henry,’ was all she could say, ‘so, so, sorry.’_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry is brought in for questioning and faces an inevitable confrontation with Marquez. Jo and Mike learn more extraordinary details about Henry's very-long and hidden life.

Jo felt numb, awash with so many emotions she had just shut down. Her best friend was walking next to her in handcuffs. Analytically, she knew that she was both angry at Henry for all the lies, and angry at herself for what she could only see as her ultimate act of betrayal. _Guilt. _That was the one thing she could feel. She felt guilty. As much as she liked to think she was in control of what happened to Henry now, she wasn’t. For all she knew, she was condemning him to an eternity as a lab rat or some other sort of governmentally sanctioned torture.__

__She looked across at Mike, and from his expression he was equally disturbed by their situation. He had acted professionally and searched Henry for weapons after they had put him in handcuffs. However, she had seen Mike take out Henry’s pocket watch, and then with a whispered word to Henry, he had laid it on top of the Abraham’s desk where it was sure to be seen. He knew it was important to Henry and Jo approved of his efforts to keep it safe._ _

__Henry, for his part, seemed to alternate between resignation and alarm. Jo had never seen him this out of sorts, and that was making her more uncomfortable then anything else. And he was silent; Henry was never silent._ _

__The walk from the antique shop to their vehicle only took a few moments but was long enough for Henry to see the team of black-clad agents swarming into his home. Jo cringed at his furrowed eyebrows; it was just another violation of his privacy for which she felt responsible. She had known that the shop and his apartment were going to be searched and items taken – but she had hoped to avoid him bearing witness to it._ _

__Reece was waiting by the car. Her presence surprised Henry enough that he uttered an automatic, ‘Lieutenant,’. It came out as less a salutation and more an accusation of complicity._ _

__‘Doctor Morgan,’ she nodded, as though she were greeting him at the beginning of the workday. Formalities completed, Mike helped Henry into the car and they all settled themselves into the back of the SUV. Henry glanced curiously at Agent Marquez, who was in the back corner talking quietly with someone on the telephone - from what Jo gathered he was informing the ‘intake’ team that Henry was on his way._ _

__The ride back to their temporary offices was the longest of Jo’s life. Normally, when she rode with Henry she didn’t have to worry about conversation but this time he said nothing. Instead it was Reece who broke the silence._ _

__‘So, Henry,’ she said, sounding like they were having a meeting in her office, ‘you sleep naked, do you?’_ _

__Her comment pulled Henry’s eyes from where they had been glued to the floorboards and he actually had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘So you know about that as well, do you?’_ _

__It wasn’t really a question, but Reece nodded anyway._ _

__‘Lieutenant,’ he sighed, ‘it was never my intention to deceive,’ He shifted in his seat, trying to settle his cuffed hands more comfortably behind him as the car swayed. ‘However, it was not as though I could veritably tell you the truth.’_ _

__‘Hmm,’ Reece replied, still giving Henry a considering look. ‘Believe it or not, Doctor Morgan, learning that you are immortal and that is the reason you end up naked in the river is actually a relief.’ She paused and took in Henry’s quizzical look. The then leaned towards him as though sharing a secret, ‘It actually makes you seem less strange then a mortal man who has an obsession with death and a weird and dangerous penchant for wandering into the East River naked at all times of the year.’_ _

__It took Henry a moment to absorb what she had said, and his lips quirked up at the corners as he considered her words. He finally cast her a shy smile, ‘I guess it does.’_ _

\-----

__

__While Jo and Mike had been allowed bring Henry in, they were relegated to the observation room while Henry was ‘interviewed’ by Agent Marquez and two members of the team from Washington. Henry’s handcuffs were removed once he entered the room, but the door was locked from the outside._ _

__Henry had seen the timeline in the conference room as they had walked through the office. His eyes had widened and he had paused, taking in all the photos and other documentation pinned to the wall. He had then looked around at all the people scattered throughout the office who were trying, and failing, to pretend that they weren’t watching. After all, how often did one get to see an immortal?_ _

__Marquez got right to the point and told Henry he would be detained for as long as was deemed necessary. When Henry asked for a lawyer Marquez’s response was simply that while he was detained, he was not under arrest, and therefore did not have the right to a lawyer. Jo cringed at that, and she could hear Mike something unflattering about Marquez under his breath._ _

__The first part of the interview was like any other suspect interview. Marquez it went over Henry’s personal details and timeline. It was atypical in that his timeline stretched for over 235 years. It was one thing to suspect that someone was immortal, but very different to see your friend tell someone that their birthday was September 19, _1779.___

____Realizing what they already had, Henry began answering questions about his past with a minimum of fuss. Confirming what they already knew and, in some instances, filling in gaps in their information. For instance, no one had picked up on the fact that Henry has served, albeit temporarily, in one of the Napoleonic Wars._ _ _ _

____It was clear that he did not often share this information, and the normally eloquent medical examiner stumbled for words as he detailed various aspects of his long life. It was also evident that he had deeply ingrained trust issues and centuries of experience in deflecting questions. Each time Marquez broached a subject that Henry did not want to delve into, he attempted to deflect or, barring that, deliver the most generic answer possible._ _ _ _

____His answers, while not incorrect, were clearly not what Marquez was looking for. From the tightness around his mouth, Jo could see that he was getting frustrated._ _ _ _

____‘Doctor Morgan,’ he finally said, ‘I need you to be more forthcoming with me.’_ _ _ _

____It appeared that Henry had shaken off some of his nerves as well, ‘Why should I be, Agent Marquez?’_ _ _ _

____‘Because I need to determine if you are a threat to this country,’ Marquez responded in a sensible tone of voice._ _ _ _

____‘I can answer that question easily enough,’ was Henry’s reply, ‘I am not.’ He continued, ‘I simply wish to be left alone to live my life.’_ _ _ _

____‘Alright,’ Marquez parried, smoothly changing tactics, ‘speaking of lives.’ How did you end up in the river on the night of Feb. 3rd._ _ _ _

____Henry paused, caught flat footed by the question. Jo was also surprised by this question, and had to admit that Marquez was good, very good. She noticed both Reece and Hansen leaning towards the glass, mirroring her own pose as they all awaited Henry’s answer._ _ _ _

____‘Ah,’ Henry stumbled._ _ _ _

____‘Allow me to remind you,’ Marquez took control of the conversation. ‘On that day you were seen getting onto the subway train that crashed a few short minutes later. Just a few minutes after that, you were picked up for skinny dipping miles away.’_ _ _ _

____Marquez waited, even though it was clear he knew what Henry was going to say._ _ _ _

____‘I was on the train when it crashed,’ Henry finally said. ‘Like everyone else on the train, I didn’t survive.’_ _ _ _

____‘So you lied when you told Detective Martinez that you got off the train before it crashed?’_ _ _ _

____‘Yes, I did.’_ _ _ _

____‘What about the night three months later when you were again arrested for public indecency?’ It appeared that Marquez was going to go down the list of Henry’s arrests._ _ _ _

____Henry started to fidget, straightening his arms and unnecessarily adjusting his cuff links. He didn’t answer._ _ _ _

____‘Doctor Morgan.’ Marquez’s voice held both a command and a threat._ _ _ _

____‘I was murdered,’ Henry actually seemed to be embarrassed by that. Jo could hear both Reece and Hansen gasp._ _ _ _

____‘Tell me more,’ Marquez said. Henry again adjusted his cuff links. The silence dragged out._ _ _ _

____‘Doctor Morgan,’ Marquez said ‘I will keep you here until all of my questions are satisfactorily answered.’ It didn’t sounds like he was regretting the idea._ _ _ _

____Henry met Marquez’s eye, acknowledging the threat in his statement._ _ _ _

____‘I was in the back of a cab when it was driven off the docks and into the bay. The doors were locked and I drowned.’_ _ _ _

____‘Oh my God,’ Jo said. Turning quickly to see Hansen’s equally wide eyes. They both remembered the case. ‘That is why his watch was in the back of that cab. The person trying to get out was Henry.’_ _ _ _

____‘Geezus,’ Hansen muttered, ‘No wonder he seemed extra weird that day, he was investigating his own murder.’_ _ _ _

____Jo turned back to the interview room._ _ _ _

____‘Alright,’ Marquez finally said, ‘so who killed you, and why?’_ _ _ _

____Henry paused for a long moment and then turned and looked towards the glass of the observation room. Though Jo was sure he couldn’t see them she knew he was considering their presence. Whatever the answer was to these questions, they appeared to be much more complicated then a name and a motive._ _ _ _

____After a long and weighty moment, Henry sighed, ‘His name is Adam, and he was driving the cab. He killed himself to prove a point, and then killed me to prove another point.’_ _ _ _

____Marquez didn’t seem to know what to make of this, ‘What point was he trying to prove that required he commit suicide?’_ _ _ _

____‘He was proving that he was immortal, too.’_ _ _ _

____There was silence in both the interview and observation rooms. There was another immortal? Jo inanely wondered if there was some kind of immortal social club in New York that they were unaware of._ _ _ _

____Marquez perked up, his interest obvious, ‘So there is another immortal in New York.’ This was more of a statement than a question._ _ _ _

____‘Yes.’_ _ _ _

____‘Do you know of any others?’_ _ _ _

____Henry shook his head, ‘Adam is the only one. The first one I met in over two hundred years. At first I didn’t believe it.’_ _ _ _

____From the terse way that Henry was retelling this story, Jo got the distinct impression that there was a great deal more to it._ _ _ _

____‘Tell me about Adam,’ Marquez urged._ _ _ _

____Henry looked him straight in the eye and replied. ‘Adam is old. Very, very old. And quite mad.’ Henry assessed Marquez’s obvious interest. ‘If you care about your life and the lives of the people you work with, you will leave Adam alone.’_ _ _ _

____Jo’s blood ran cold. The Henry she knew had no sense of self-preservation and was hardly scared of anything (except being found out as an immortal, apparently). She struggled to imagine someone who could spook him this badly._ _ _ _

____‘Okay…’ Marquez spoke slowly, flipping open a new page in his notebook. ‘Why don’t we start from the very beginning.’_ _ _ _

____Over the next two hours Jo, Reece and Hansen stood in silence as Henry detailed his interactions with Adam. Jo had thought she couldn’t be surprised by anything else but this…this was beyond anything she could have imagined. A two thousand year old immortal was walking around New York stalking her best friend. Even more astonishing, she had met this immortal in the guise of one Dr. Lewis Farber._ _ _ _

____Very slowly the puzzle that was Henry Morgan started to come together. Adam believed that a death caused by the same weapon responsible for their initial deaths would end their cycles of immortality. This, in turn, explained Henry’s strange obsession with the Pugio and his seemingly random attempts to thwart their investigation. Henry had a whole double life that they had never suspected._ _ _ _

____All three of them were riveted as Henry detailed his last meeting with Adam underneath the subway. They collectively cringed when he spoke of getting shot with the captain’s flint lock and Adam’s promise that Henry would either die permanently or Jo would watch him disappear. The hair on the back of Jo’s neck stood up. _She had been so close to finding out the truth! _____ _ _

______At the end of his tale Henry looked exhausted. It was past eleven and Henry was a lark. Agent Marquez seemed to realize the same thing and he put his pen down._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Just one last question, Dr. Morgan’ he said, ‘and then we will adjourn until tomorrow.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Henry nodded mutely._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Do you know where is Adam now?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Henry froze at those words. Something akin to guilt played across his features. This was quickly replaced by resolve. ‘Adam is where he can’t hurt anyone anymore.’ Despite further prodding by Marquez, Henry refused to elaborate._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Doctor Morgan,’ Marquez finally seemed to have realized he would get no more answers tonight. , ‘We will pick this up again tomorrow after you meet with our physicians. We have arranged accommodation for you, if you will please follow Agent Evans.’ He gestured to one of the military-looking men who had barely moved over the past three hours._ _ _ _ _ _

______With that, he walked out the door._ _ _ _ _ _


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo faces Abe and Reece starts to work on a plan to protect Henry.

By the time Jo, Mike and Lieutenant Reece had filed out of the observation room Henry had disappeared through a locked door to another floor of the building with two of the Washington people. The desks and conferences rooms were all empty they were alone with the exception of the two night security people and Marquez. 

Outside of the interview room Marquez suddenly looked as tired as Henry. He nodded to Lieutenant Reece in acknowledgement but turned to address Jo. 

‘Detective Martinez,’ his address was polite, ‘would you be able to stop by Dr. Morgan’s residence and pick him up a few things? Clothing and other essential items.’ He took a moment to formulate his thoughts, ‘I have also heard from the agents on the ground that Doctor Morgan’s son has been asking for you specifically. He said he would wait up.’

Jo could feel her stomach move from her waist down to her knees while her heart made its way to her throat. _She had totally forgotten about Abe!!! _She couldn’t imagine what he was going through. He must have returned to find their home being searched and Henry missing. Knowing Abe he was going to be both sick with worry.__

__‘Ummm…yeah, I will do that now. I can bring all the stuff in the morning.’ Agent Marquez nodded at her response and then headed towards his office, clearly not planning on going home any time soon._ _

__Jo, Mike and Lieutenant Reece made their way to the elevators and rode in silence down to the ground floor._ _

__‘Jo,’ Mike started, ‘I’ll go with you.’_ _

__Jo mutely shook her head. ‘Thanks Mike, but I think I will be okay.’ She said, ‘I need to do this alone.’_ _

__Mike and the Lieutenant exchanged glances, and Reece turned to Jo, ‘Detective Hanson goes, but he can wait in the car.’_ _

__Jo nodded numbly, silently glad for the support._ _

\-----

__Mike pulled up in front of Abe’s Antiques, and gave Jo a nod before she got out. It was after midnight but she could see a light shining down the stairs from the living quarters. The sign on the front door was turned to ‘closed.’_ _

__Jo squared her shoulders, and knocked. As she looked through the glass everything looked in place, it felt like a lifetime since she had been here even though it had only been a few hours. She had tried to rehearse what she would say on the way over and had settled for the truth. She would accept whatever Abe had to say to her, and she wouldn’t make excuses – just give explanations._ _

__Her focus returned in time to see a shadow start to move down the stairs. Abe was still dressed for the day but Jo couldn’t see his face, it was hidden in the shadow of the shop’s awning._ _

__Abe quickly undid the lock and opened the door before gesturing her inside. She could now see his features, but they were blank. ‘Let’s head upstairs,’ he said, ‘I have tea ready.’_ _

__She waited for him to re-lock the door and then followed him upstairs. Nothing seemed disturbed here either and she wondered what the search team had found and taken._ _

__As promised, there was tea laid out on the coffee table and Abe took a seat on one of the chairs, he nodded towards the couch indicating that Jo should sit. She did, and remained silent while he poured. He handed her a cup but did not pick up his own. The cup was warm and Jo wrapped her hands around it for comfort, studying her fingernails and not looking at Abe._ _

__‘So,’ he finally started, ‘Tell me Jo, what the hell is going on?’ Okay, now he sounded a little angry._ _

__‘Are you okay?’ she asked, suddenly needing to know that first. ‘I know you must have been surprised when you got home?’_ _

__Abe grimaced, ‘Well, it is not every day I come home to a tactical team in the basement, but I am used to dealing with weird things.’ He chuckled to himself, his indefatigable good humour returning ‘to be honest, I don’t think they knew what to do with me. I certainly gave them a piece of my mind.’_ _

__Jo became worried. ‘Did they treat you okay?’_ _

__Abe brushed way her concern with a wave of his hand, ‘You should worry more about them. I may be seventy but I can hold my own.’ He smiled, but it didn’t seem sincere, ‘And they are going to have to deal with Henry when he gets back, he is going to be furious, they messed up his lab.’_ _

__Jo cringed, though she wasn’t surprised. ‘Tell me what is going on,’ Abe repeated._ _

__And she did. Jo told him everything. About the initiative, and how Henry was on the list. What had happened that day. And how she didn’t know what was going to happen next._ _

__Abe just nodded. ‘So how is he taking it?’ Abe asked, his concern for Henry evident._ _

__Jo actually smiled a little, ‘Hard to tell. Sometimes he seems like he is freaking out, other times he is acting like the same old Henry.’ She recalled his interaction with Agent Marquez, ‘He has already managed to piss off the Agent in charge, so I guess some things don’t change.’_ _

__Abe snorted, ‘Leave it to pops,’ he smiled fondly. ‘As far back as I can remember he’s had a talent for pissing people off.’_ _

__‘He’s your father,’ she stated, reminded by his words. She suddenly looked closer at Abe._ _

__‘Yep,’ Abe stated and leaned forward into her scrutiny, a eyebrow quirked. ‘But you already know this.’_ _

__She nodded, echoing his movement. ‘How Abe?’_ _

__‘Me?!?’ He joked, splaying a hand across his chest. ‘Oh, I was adopted, there is no way a man as ugly as Henry could have a kid as good looking as me.’_ _

__Abe’s quip got a half-hearted laugh out of Jo, enough to lighten the mood. Abe continued, ‘as for the immortality thing, your guess is as good as mine. Even Henry doesn’t know, and he has been trying to find out for two hundred years. You can imagine how much that annoys him.’_ _

__Jo actually smiled. Yes, she could imagine how that annoyed him._ _

__She leaned back and took a gulp of her now cold tea. ‘I am sorry Abe. For all of this.’_ _

__Abe also leaned back and considered her. After several moments, ‘I think both Henry and I knew this day was coming,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Technology being what it is, it was only a matter of time.’_ _

__Jo still felt a rush of guilt, ‘I didn’t tell them about Henry,’ she reiterated, ‘he was already on the list.’_ _

__Abe huffed a humourless laugh, ‘that does not surprise me. For all of his paranoia, Henry is hardly the soul of discretion.’_ _

__Jo thought about Henry’s clothing, his pocket watch, and his other ‘eccentricities’. ‘No,’ she agreed with a smile, ‘he does not.’_ _

__‘And why is that?’ she asked suddenly. ‘He has had 200 years to learn how to blend in.’_ _

__Abraham laughed outright, ‘Well,’ he mused, ‘I have known Henry my entire life and don’t think he ever blended in, per se, and one thing he can’s stop being is Henry.’_ _

__She ran her hands through her hair. ‘He could have at least changed his name,’ she muttered. She was a bit surprised when Abe gave her a thoughtful look, then tented his fingers and tapped them against chin._ _

__‘The faster the human race progresses, the farther behind Henry falls,’ Abe murmured. “I have actually suggested he change his name on more than one occasion. He always has an excuse but I think it is because his name is the one thing in his life that is constant; the one thing that connects his present and his past. The one thing that will always be his.’_ _

__Jo nodded, suddenly feeling selfish that she had even asked. ‘I am worried about him,’ she said. Abe nodded, ‘me too, but let me tell you. Henry is tougher then he looks. He has gotten through worse and he will get through this.’ He sounded as if he believed it._ _

__Abe stood, and Jo took the hint and stood too. He walked to the head of the stairs and handed her a suitcase that she assumed were filled with items for Henry. As they stood there, fact to face in the light cast by the stairwell lamp, Abe looked impossibly tired and old. ‘Take care of him kid,’ Abe asked, and Jo could finally see how hard this was on him. ‘He is the only dad I have.’_ _

__‘I will,’ she promised. ‘I will.’_ _

\-----

__

__Lieutenant Reece stood alone in the conference room staring at Henry’s timeline. Her eyes were fixed upon a photo taken at the precinct Christmas party two years ago. Henry was standing next to Jo and Mike, the photo having caught him in mid-hand gesture, and likely mid-lecture. Whatever he was lecturing about, it had obviously been funny because Jo was laughing and Mike was rolling his eyes._ _

__In her head, she went over the conversation she had with Agent Marquez this morning. She had known going into his office that it was going to be a confrontation, and she had been right. But Henry was one of _hers,_ and she looked after her own. _ _

__She had come into the office early, before most of the other’s and found Marquez at his desk._ _

__‘Agent Marquez,’ she had begun, ‘I would like to know what the process with Henry will be.’ Her request was not unreasonable, but Agent Marquez had tried to give her the same non-answers he gave everyone else. Answers she had refused to accept. In the end, she had gotten it out of him._ _

__The government didn’t understand immortals, and what it didn’t understand – it feared. It viewed Henry as one of two things: a threat, or a resource. If he was determined to be a threat then he would be ‘contained’. That was Agent Marquez’s term, and she had understood that to mean he would disappear – and while they may not be able to kill him they could make sure he was never seen again. If he was determined a resource, then the government would put him to use._ _

__She had learned, unequivocally, that there was no chance of Henry going back to his old life. None. Once the government had found him they were not going to let him go. She sighed in frustration. Anyone who had seen how upset he had been after killing his stalker (okay, the man sent by his stalker) would know that he wasn’t a violent or heartless man. The question was, how did she convince Agent Marquez that Henry wasn’t a threat? Furthermore, she had to convince them that he was useful which wasn’t going to be easy. Knowing Henry, and seeing his initial response to questioning, she didn’t think he would cooperate._ _

__Reece turned from the timeline and looked at the conference room table. It was now covered with all of the items that had been confiscated from Henry’s apartment. Most of the ‘evidence’ consisted of documents and photographs that confirmed what they already knew. But some pieces were of a more personal nature. There were letters from friends, the old pistol that had likely taken Henry’s life (the first time), and other small pieces of his history._ _

__Perhaps most interesting were Henry’s ‘death’ journals. Reece recalled hearing about them when Henry was a murder suspect so many years ago but she had never seen them. At the time it has been assumed that they were records of his more interesting autopsies. Now she now recognized them for what they were. So many deaths. Even for living as long as he had Reece felt a twinge of sadness for him, his had not been an easy life._ _

__Reece turned again to the timeline, her eyes dragging over dates and locations. She then turned back to the journals. The inkling of an idea started to form in the back of her mind. She went over in her head what she knew about Henry as a person. He was cautious, but curious. Loyal but paranoid. She strode to the end of the timeline and walked slowly along it one more time, the voice in the back of her mind telling her she was missing something. Another pass, and then another. That was it. A pattern. A very particular pattern. She walked it again, this time taking in photo after photo of Henry with work colleagues, other doctors, hospital staff and his family. She considered the journals again._ _

___Hmmmm….this could work._ __

__

__She paused as she thought about what she would have to do. Even if she could tell Henry her plans, there was no way he would cooperate. She would need to be subtle. And he was a smart man, one of the smartest she had ever met. However, when it came to emotions Henry was short-sighted – particularly about himself._ _

__

__He was also arrogant and wouldn’t see what she was up to until too late. She had been a good beat cop and an excellent detective. All because she could read people, and if you could read people you could often get them to do what you wanted them to do._ _

__

__Now she just needed to talk to Mike and Jo._ _

__


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reece takes more steps towards executing her plan. Mike gets a new appreciation of Henry when they meet the medical team.

Jo was back at the office before 7 the next morning with Henry’s things. She couldn’t do much for him, but she could at least do this. 

Given the early hour, she was surprised to receive a text from Mike just a few minutes later, asking her to meet him in one of the conference rooms. When she arrived Mike was with Lieutenant Reece and they were already deep into what was clearly an ongoing discussion. 

Reece turned at her arrival. ‘Detective Martinez,’ she greeted, she then paused, ‘Jo, I think I have figured out a way to help Henry.’

Jo was caught off guard by the informal address, but was more interested in what the Lieutenant had to say. She took a step closer to Reece and Mike, even though they were alone in the conference room. ‘How can I help?’ She asked. 

The Lieutenant nodded. ‘First, I need you to put together a list of all the places Henry has lived and how long he lived there. I also need to know the names of everyone Henry has told about his immortality,’ she paused, ‘If you can, also try and figure out some of the people he was closest to and for how long.’

Jo nodded, she understood what the Lieutenant wanted, but not why. Reece was clearly after something. ‘Okay,’ she started, ‘why?’ She was half surprised when Reece answered her, ‘I need to find out who Henry trusts.’

This still wasn’t a lot to go off of, and before Jo could get to work Reece placed a hand on her arm. ‘I also need one more thing from you,’ she said. Jo waited, ‘I am going arrange for you to have a few minutes alone with Henry. I need you to ask him one thing, and you have to get him to tell you the truth.’

Jo nodded at this strange request, ‘Okay…’ she said, ‘I can do that.’ What do you want me to ask? Reece told her – but it didn’t make the Lieutenant’s plan any clearer. Mike seemed equally baffled by the request. 

Reece nodded at Jo’s agreement but would not elaborate as to why this piece of information was so important. ‘It’s better if you don’t know, otherwise Henry might catch on,’ was all she would say. Then did tell them that they had one day to get all the information together. Jo turned to the papers taken from Henry’s apartment, uggh…there were over a dozen boxes. With a sigh she braced herself and opened the first one. 

 

Just after eight that same morning Mike found himself in one of the most advanced medical facilities he had ever seen. He had no idea how much money it had taken to set it up or how long it had taken, but he was impressed. 

Reece had pulled him aside earlier and asked him to sit in with Henry during the medical part of his evaluation, both to keep an eye on Henry as well as keep an eye on everyone else. 

Mike sat quietly on one of the swiving stools in the corner while he waited for Henry and his ‘entourage’ to arrive. Henry strode in a few moments later followed closely by the two silent agents who seemed to be attached to him every hour of the day. Henry slowed when he saw Mike, and actually broke into a small smile. 

‘Good morning, detective,’ he greeted. He looked like he was running this clinic and not here for tests

‘Mornin’ Henry,’ Mike replied, standing. It only then occurred to him then that this could be an awkward conversation considering the circumstances under which they had last met. Mike shrugged it off. Henry wasn’t making it weird so neither would he. ‘How’d you sleep last night?’

Henry quirked an eyebrow, ‘Well, I must admit that for being ‘detained’ the accommodation is quite nice. The breakfast was not up to Abe’s standards, but then again, whose breakfast is?’ Henry paused for a moment, ‘To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morning?’

‘Reece sent me,’ Mike answered, ‘she wanted me to pass on a message to you.’

Henry cocked his head to the side, ‘Really? Very well then, let’s have it.’

‘She said, and I quote, ‘be nice’’. 

Mike watched Henry’s reaction, but he seemed to be just as baffled by the message as Mike has been. Clearly it didn’t mean anything to him either. ‘I shall try to be on my best behaviour,’ he cautiously assured. 

‘I am serious,’ Mike said, ‘she was very adamant.’

Henry met his eyes and nodded. ‘Alright.’

Both Henry and Mike turned their attention to three lab-coat wearing people who approached them. They quickly introduced themselves as the two head doctors, Doctor Phillips – a tall blond woman, and Doctor Cailler – a shorter and much more rotund man. The third person was their head lab tech, Abbey. Both Mike and Henry could see the additional flock of five or so techs at the end of the room who weren’t even trying to be subtle, and eyed Henry with avid curiosity.

Unlike the federal agents, the medical staff were clearly enthused about their meeting with Henry, but unsure if he was willing. Mike had to hide his smirk. It must be a new sensation for Henry, being the puzzle that everyone else wanted to solve. 

‘Doctor Morgan,’ started Doctor Phillips, ‘it is so good to meet you.’ She extended her hand to Henry, and Mike noticed Henry hesitate – he suddenly remembered Henry’s less-than-pleasant background with governmental medical facilities. He then watched Henry transform, the cautious look melting away as he turned his most charming smile towards the doctor and grasped her hand. 

She noticed his hesitation, ‘I...ah...I apologize about the circumstances.’ She didn’t seem to know what to say after this – and looked disapprovingly at the two lurking federal agents.

Henry slid a look at Mike, then shrugged slightly, acting amused, ‘Doctor Phillips,’ he started brightly, ‘while we cannot help the circumstance of our meeting it does not mean we can’t be civil.’

Both Phillips and Cailler seemed to sag with relief, and the lab techs at the end of the room perked up and started inching closer. ‘Where shall we start?’ Henry continued gamely.

‘Oh yes… right!’ started Doctor Phillips clearly not expecting their encounter to go this way. ‘Uhhhh…well…there is so much I want to ask you but first, could you please go with Abbey? She will take your medical history while we set up some additional tests. We want to start with a physical and some blood work. Then…um…maybe you could tell us about your…lives.’ 

‘It would be my pleasure,’ Henry chirped. Mike tried to hide his grin, he hadn’t seen Henry act this charming with anyone except…well…Jo. Jo always saw through it but, he glanced at the room, it looked like the doctors and the lab techs were buying it. Both doctors fluttered away, calling out various techs to set up a staggering array of tests.

Abbey, for her part, was a consummate professional and led them both over to a computerized work-station. Mike wasn’t sure if he was welcome, but took a seat after Henry nodded towards a nearby chair. 

There was a little confusion as Henry tried to figure out if Abbey wanted his current medical history (i.e. from this current life) or a more encompassing history (i.e. all of his lives). And they were finally able to settle on his, shall we say ‘chronic’ medical history – the things that were the same every time around. 

With the ‘preliminary’ questions answered, one of the lab techs, a shaky man who reminded Mike of Lucas came over to take Henry’s blood. Mike wasn’t sure if this tech was new or just terrified of Henry (Mike had a hard time thinking anyone could be _afraid _of Henry) because, for the life of this poor young man, he couldn’t get the needle into one of Henry’s arms.__

__After the second time Henry was unsuccessfully jabbed, he turned away from his conversation with Abbey (who did not seem to having the same reservations as her colleague) and turned his eyes on the young man. The young man briefly glanced at Henry and started to sweat. He turned away for a moment and started to mess with the vials in what Mike was sure a nervous gesture with no actual clinical purpose._ _

__Henry focused on the young man and was about to open his mouth when Mike pointedly cleared his throat. Henry turned to him with a raised eyebrow. ‘Be nice!’ Mike mouthed at him. Henry actually graced him with a faint eye roll before turning his gaze back on the clearly shaken lab tech._ _

__‘Where did you serve, Steven?’ Henry asked, surprising Mike with his friendly tone of voice._ _

__‘Uh…sorry?’ The young man whirled around and turned a wide-eyed gaze at Henry._ _

__‘You are clearly a military man,’ Henry mused, ‘the way that you are drawing blood, your bearing, the still-regulation hair cut, and the hint of tattoo on your forearm.’ Henry rattled off. ‘How long have you been out? Not long?’_ _

__Steven, though Mike had no idea how Henry knew that, stared for a moment before replying ‘ahhh….about six months.’_ _

__‘I thought so!’ Henry smiled at Steven, he then gestured to the blood draw kit and motioned Steven to come closer. ‘Come on over here young man, I will show you a trick. One thing I have a lot of practice doing is drawing blood.’ Steven inched closer, dragging the tray with his instruments behind him. Mike was equally suspicious. This was a side of Henry he had never seen._ _

__Henry lured Steven even closer and convinced him to sit down (it is apparently easier to draw blood that way), and then talked Steven through the blood draw. He even had Steven stick him several times with the needle just to make sure he had the hang of it. Huh…Mike thought…Henry would have actually made a very good teacher. By the end of the ‘lesson’ Steven was drawing blood like a pro, and the forest of vials were filled. The young man was even comfortable enough to ask Henry a question._ _

__‘So…uh…did you ever serve?’ He asked, focusing on shaking one of the vials._ _

__‘Indeed I did,’ Henry replied._ _

__‘Iraq War?’ Steven guessed absently while applying a lable to the most recent vial._ _

__There was a pause and Henry actually cast Mike an underhanded smile, ‘Napoleonic,’ Henry deadpanned._ _

__Steven froze, turned scarlet, and turned back to Henry with a grimace._ _

__Henry grinned, actually _grinned _at Steven. ‘If it makes you feel better I also served in the Great War and the Second World War.’ Was Henry _teasing _? Mike started to chuckle._____ _

______Henry’s teasing worked; Steven met Henry’s gaze for a moment and then he actually started to laugh ‘I suppose that is what I get for asking,’ he chuckled, ‘it was a pleasure to meet you Henry,’ he said before wheeling the cart away._ _ _ _ _ _

______Henry then spent the next two hours getting the most detailed physical Mike had ever seen, the most interesting part of which was when Mike finally got a good look at Henry’s scar. He had seen it once before, after rescuing Henry from Clive Walker but only in passing and now was if first opportunity to get a good look at it. Dang, it was a nasty looking thing. Must have hurt like hell too. Henry gave Mike a wry smile when he caught him looking and Mike figured now was as good a time as any to ask questions._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘So, is that the only scar you have?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘No, I still have all the scars from when I was mortal.’ It appeared that Henry had gotten used to answering questions._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘So, do they just fade away, or what?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘No, my body is just like everyone else’s in that it heals at the same rate and I get the same scars as everyone else. They just go away when I die and come back.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘What about tattoos?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Henry paused and gave Mike a pensive look. ‘That is a good question,’ he mused, ‘I have never tried that.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Dr. Phillips, who had been listening while doing the examination, piped up. ‘Those disappear too,’ she said, ‘unless you had the tattoo before your first death.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Henry perked up at this comment, ‘you have examined other immortals?’ Phillips nodded absently, busy measuring the size of the scar. ‘I am the head doctor in charge of this unit. Every time we identify a new immortal I get called in.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘How many?’ Henry asked. His eyes had narrowed and he got that look that Hansen recognized right before Henry usually got into trouble._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Three,’ she said, finally noticing Henry’s interest._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Is there any connection between our causes of death?’ He asked, his inquisitive mind making an appearance._ _ _ _ _ _

______‘No, actually,’ Phillips paused to think. ‘In fact, I think that you are the first gun shot victim we have had. However, all of the deaths have been violent and un-natural. That is to say, no one died from an illness and came back.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______Henry frowned. ‘Do they all come back in water?’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘Yes,’_ _ _ _ _ _

______‘How strange,’ he mused. ‘I always wondered if I came back in water because that is where I died. Apparently not.’_ _ _ _ _ _

______And just like that, Mike was swept up into the most bizarre meeting of the minds he had ever witnessed. Henry and the doctor were soon embroiled in a lively discussion about the causes of immortality, or more specifically, about what kinds of ‘deaths’ lead to immortals. He couldn’t follow all the medical babble but it was slightly hilarious to see Henry walking about the lab with his shirt off like he owned the place._ _ _ _ _ _

______It was Henry who suggested they look at his journals. When he explained what they contained, both doctors got manic gleams in their eyes and quickly called over a tech with instruction to head down stairs and find them. He had to outright stifle a laugh when Henry drug the doctor over to the flock of lab techs (who had swarmed his journals when they had arrived) and started to point out specific deaths that took longer to return from. Hanson recognized Henry’s lecture voice when he heard it, and he was on a role now. But both attending doctors and the techs were enraptured by what he had to say. An excellent teacher, indeed._ _ _ _ _ _

______Over lunch, Henry scoured the medical records of the other immortals and compared them with what he knew of himself. Doctor Cailler and Doctor Phillips peppered him with questions and posted theories, most of which Henry seemed to have already considered and tested. However, there were a few theories which he had not tried (Mike got perverse delight in seeing Henry one-upped on something medical). Henry eagerly agreed to additional tests and spent the next several hours being scanned, poked, and prodded. Mike had never seen anyone so excited to get a C.T. scan, but then Henry wasn’t just anyone, now was he?_ _ _ _ _ _

______The supposedly four hour medical session came and went. The morning stretched into afternoon; someone ordered pizza, which even Henry ate. Repeated requests for Henry to return to the interview room were denied by both doctors, who seemed to have enough clout to believe their requests would be honoured. Henry’s dual shadows, while clearly on the side of Agent Marquez, did not seem inclined to resort to force and bodily drag Henry from the room._ _ _ _ _ _


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo and Henry come face for the first time since Henry was taken into custody. Questions are asked and answered. Reece puts the next step of her plan into motion - but will Henry fall for it?

Henry was in the interview room the next day before eight. He waited patiently for someone to come it, while enjoying the rare moment alone. He had had hardly any time to himself in the past two days. 

He thought of Abraham, and hoped his son was okay. He had been reassured yesterday to find that some of his clothing had been delivered. He could see Abraham’s touch in the packing and knew that his son at least knew what was going on. It seemed that no matter how many decades passed, he was always going to worry. He made a mental note to ask if he could call at some point in time today. 

The door opened abruptly and Henry turned. Expecting Agent Marquez he was startled to see Jo slip in. Henry froze, his heart beating faster. Their last meeting had been…fraught. He wasn’t sure if she was going to be angry at him for not telling the truth or distant or… whatever. He had no idea. He groaned inwardly, he was a man of habits and he just wanted the last two days to disappear so that he could go back to his life. 

Jo didn’t say anything, but cast him a small smile that quickly eased some of Henry’s tension. Her hands held two cups of coffee, and she slowly walked over to the other side of the table and sat down across from him. She placed one of the coffee cups on the table and slid it wordlessly towards him. He recognized it as being from one of their favourite coffee shops, one where they often stopped when they were working casing. He had often expounded on how it was one of the few places that could brew coffee properly. He looked up and smiled, he had no doubt it held his preferred order as well.

‘Hello Henry,’ she said. Her gaze caught and held his. He noticed circles under her eyes. She was not wearing any make up or jewellery and he grew a bit concerned. 

‘Detective Martinez,’ Henry paused, ‘Jo,’ he floundered. He didn’t know what else to say but he wanted to make sure she was all right.

‘Henry,’ she started, looking directly into his eyes. ‘I just wanted to say that I am sorry. About all of this.’ She gestured vaguely to the room around them. ‘You are my friend, and I …’ She searched for the words, ‘…I feel like I should have been able to do this differently.’

Henry had not been expecting an apology. Nor did he feel that he deserved one. ‘Jo, it’s all right. If it had not been you it would have been someone else.’ He shrugged his shoulders and gave her a wry smile, ‘all and all it could be worse.’

She was looking directly into his eyes and he could tell that his comments didn’t make her feel better. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ She asked. Jo’s eyes never left his. Even though he had been expecting this question, but he knew he still didn’t have a good answer. Henry considered her words carefully. He had hurt Jo, more than he wanted to admit. 

‘I wanted to,’ it sounded weak even to his ears, and he broke the too-intense eye contact and shook his head. He started again, ‘I was trying to protect you…’

‘Were you ever going to tell me?’ She interrupted, not unkindly. She watched him hesitate and she reached across the table to grasp his hand.

‘There is no longer a need to protect anyone, Henry. If there was ever a time to tell the truth, it is now.’ Her tone was even and she gazed at him, unblinking. She caught his eyes and held them with the intensity of her look. Both cups of coffee slowly cooled from lack of attention.

It was Henry that broke eye contact first. He looked instead at his hands resting on the table. There was so much he could say. So many reasons or lies that he could offer. But he was tired of hiding, and it no longer seemed as if there was a point. He gathered a deep breath and looked back at Jo, ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I was planning on telling you.’

‘When?’ She asked.

Henry had a quick answer for that, “As soon as I could find the right time. I was going to tell you when you found by pocket watch and the picture, but we got interrupted and then I lost my nerve. After that, opportunities came and went but I just didn’t know how.” He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “Honestly Jo, how do you tell someone that you can’t die?”

When Jo didn’t say anything Henry felt compelled to continue, ‘‘I didn’t know how,” he then grimaced and shook his head. ‘No, that’s not true. I was afraid.’

A range of emotions flashed across Jo’s face, and settled on curious. ‘What do you mean? Afraid of what?’ She tilted her head to the side in a distinctly ‘Jo’ action as she asked. 

Henry shrugged and gesture to the room, “Of this, for one. My condition has only brought me sorrow.” Henry gave her a half smile, ‘But the real reason is that not everyone handles the news of my immortality very well,’ he said, ‘At best you would have thought me a fool, at worst, crazy. I did not want to damage what we had.’

‘Have,’ Jo corrected him without thinking. She left the word hanging in the air long enough for Henry to comprehend its meaning and feel its promise. ‘And what do we have?’ She asked.

Henry remained silent, but he was clearly struggling for words. His eyes turned up and right and he finally settled on, ‘you are my friend, my colleague. The closest I have been to a person since…” The pause was profound, almost as much as the name filling it. “…in a long time,’ Henry finished lamely. They both knew who he was talking about.

Something akin to sadness flickered across Jo’s face, ‘I am glad to have you, too,’ was all she said. The then reached over and pushed Henry’s coffee towards him a bit further. ‘Drink up,’ she said, ‘before it gets too cold. I have to go before Agend Marquez gets back.’ She stood up from the table and pushed in her chair. 

She was walking out before she quickly turned back and gave Henry a reassuring smile, “I will let Abe know you are okay and I will try and catch up with you later.” 

‘Jo...’ Henry started, but she was already gone. He caught himself smiling. Trust Jo to know he was worried about Abe. And her promise to talk again made him think that maybe their friendship could survive this. 

\--- 

It was only a few short moments later that Jo re-entered the observation room. Through the glass Henry still gazed towards the door. Reece, Mike and Agent Marquez were all waiting for her.

‘Did you get what you needed?’ She asked, turning a questioning glance to Lieutenant Reece, who stood in the centre of the room, arms crossed and face considering.

The Lieutenant nodded, eyes fixed upon the lone occupant of the room next door. ‘Yes’ she measured her words, ‘I believe I did.’

Reece turned to Agent Marquez and raised an eyebrow at him, ‘you ready?’ She asked. His mouth twisted in either annoyance or anticipation, he left the room without saying a word. Reece stood, watching. 

Jo’s eyes took in Henry through the one-way mirror. Despite having the night to rest, he looked tired. He was dressed in his usual tie and vest, but had foregone the jacket. Agent Marquez entered the room with the two silent agents who once again took up their posts at the corners facing Henry. 

‘Good morning, Doctor Morgan.’ Marquez started, ‘I hope you slept well.’ He made no indication that he was aware of, much less had witnessed, the interaction that had occurred a few moments earlier. He made not mention of Henry’s cup of coffee.

Henry did not answer, seeming preoccupied; he just inclined his head in acknowledgement. Marquez opened his notebook, turned on the recorder, and uncapped his pen.

‘Alright them,’ he continued, ‘let’s pick up from where we left off yesterday, shall we.’

‘Doctor Morgan, where can we find Adam?’

Like previously, Henry refused to answer. He staunchly repeated that Adam had been ‘neutralized’ and would say no more on the subject. After twenty minutes of increasingly hostile questioning, Jo saw Reece look at her watch, stand up and quietly leave the room. A few moments later, the interview was interrupted by a knock on the door. Agent Marquez got up and answered. It was unclear if he was pretending or if he was actually annoyed by the interruption. After a brief whispered exchange with the person at the door he left.

Agent Marquez was gone for a solid ten minutes. Long enough for Henry to finish his coffee and try unsuccessfully to start a conversation with the other agents in the room. When the door finally opened it was Lieutenant Reece who entered. Henry glanced up at her in surprise. He quickly rose to greet her. Jo smirked, it looked like Henry’s old-fashioned manners would never desert him.

Reece strode over to sit across from him. 

‘Hello Henry,’ she started, ‘I have discussed the situation with Agent Marquez and we agree that I may have more success getting the answers we need then he will.’

Henry shook his head, ‘Lieutenant Reece, I mean no disrespect, but I will not tell you either where…’

Reece cut him off, ‘Shut up Henry, I don’t care where Adam is.’ 

Henry stopped short, blinking at her. ‘Alright,’ he finally said, ‘then what do you want to know?’ He asked. 

‘Tell me Doctor Morgan. How long have you been a physician?’

Henry looked at Reece, confusion writ large across his features. It was clear that he had no idea where she was going with this. 

‘Come on Henry,’ Reese urged ‘you love to tell stories, tell me this one.’

Henry scrutinized the Lieutenant but, seeing the sincerity on her face, decided to acquiesce to her request. ‘Well,’ he drew out, ‘I got my first medical degree in 1804.’ He paused for a moment, seeming to gather his memories. ‘I practiced medicine up until comparatively recently, so you could say I have been a doctor for almost two hundred years.’

‘All right,’ Reece said, ‘and why did you become a doctor?’

‘Errrmmm…’ Henry paused over the question but seemed to realize there was no harm in answering it. ‘It sounds cliché,’ he started, ‘but I always wanted to be a doctor, even since I was little. I have always found the human body fascinating, how it works, how people thrive. And I have always felt compelled to help people where I could. After my first death, I only become more determined to unravel all of it’s secrets. There is still so much we don’t know about people and I suppose I can’t leave that mystery unsolved.’

‘And why did you stop practicing medicine?’ she asked.

‘Ah,’ he started, ‘I..ah..I…was shot while trying to help an injured man. I knew I was going to die, so I fled. I left medicine when I realized I was willing to betray the Hippocratic oath in order to protect my secret.’ Henry was shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Clearly not liking the personal nature of these questions but seeing no way to get out of them.

‘And do you like your job right now?’

‘Um…yes. Yes, I do.’ 

‘And why a Medical Examiner? Why not something else.’

It seemed like a fairly straightforward question, but Henry hesitated to respond, fiddling with his cup of coffee.

‘I want to understand.’ He finally answered. Reece waited, but he did not continue.

‘Understand what, Doctor Morgan?’ The Lieutenant pressed. 

Henry breathed out a sigh, ‘I want to understand my curse, Lieutenant. I have done many things in my life Lieutenant. I have travelled the world and lived its history but there is one precious thing that I have never been able to do. And that is die.’ He paused for a moment, ‘Or rather, stay dead,’ he clarified. 

In the observation room Jo shifted her weight from foot to foot. This train of questioning was making her uncomfortable. _Was Henry suicidal? ___

__Lieutenant Reece appeared unfazed by Henry’s words. ‘Are you so eager to die?’ she asked._ _

__‘No,’ was Henry’s immediate response. He took a few moments to choose his words carefully. ‘But I would very much like to grow old.’ Henry again shifted in his seat. When Reece didn’t say anything he looked up and caught her intense gaze. His eyes skated away._ _

__Henry’s voice was low, his words deliberate – as though he could force understanding that eluded so many others, ‘Lieutenant Reece,’ he said, ‘Immortality is not a gift. Man was simply not meant to live forever.’_ _

__‘No,’ she agreed slowly, ‘I imagine we weren’t.’_ _

__She let the silence stand for a few moments and the weight of the previous words dissipate before leaning back in towards Henry._ _

__‘So,’ her tone foreshadowed a topic change. ‘Tell me about your first wife, Doctor Morgan.’_ _

__Henry blinked at her for several moments, the transition jarring him. ‘Her name was Nora and we married in the beginning of the Nineteenth Century.’_ _

__‘Did you love her?’ Reece’s tone was factual._ _

__‘Lieutenant, I am not sure how this is relevant.’_ _

__‘Trust me, Henry,’ Reece stated, ‘it’s relevant. Answer the question.’_ _

__Henry signed in frustration, ‘Very well. Yes, I did. Nora and I were very happy.’_ _

__‘Did you trust her?’ She asked._ _

__Henry grimaced in what Jo assumed by remembered betrayal, ‘Yes, I did.’_ _

__‘And you told her about your immortality?’_ _

__‘Once I made it back to England, yes.’_ _

__‘And how did that go, how did she take it?’_ _

__‘I believe you know very well how she took it, Lieutenant,’ Henry’s shoulders tensed under his shirt, his words clipped, ‘she had me committed to an asylum.’_ _

__‘Who else knows or knew about your immortality?’_ _

__‘You will have to be more specific,’ Henry rubbed the bridge of his nose, ‘an unfortunate number of people have found out over the years.’_ _

__‘Alright,’ Reece ignored Henry’s growing unrest, ‘who else have you told willingly.’_ _

__Henry paused, clearly thinking. ‘Abraham, when he was old enough. But he was starting to figure it out anyway.’_ _

__‘Anyone else?’ Reese asked._ _

__‘No’ was Henry’s terse reply, ‘it wasn’t safe.’_ _

__‘Abigail must have known, you were married for forty years.’ Reece pushed. Henry narrowed his eyes at the question, but answered. It was obvious to anyone watching that the subject of Abigail was a sensitive one. ‘I made a foolish mistake and got stabbed, I ended up dying in Abigail’s arms. I was intent on leaving but stopped by I had to say goodbye to Abraham. I snuck in in the middle of the night to see him one last time and she caught me and convinced me to stay.’_ _

__‘Why was Abigail different from the others who found out accidentally. Why did you stay and explain your condition to her.’_ _

__‘I told you, I planned on leaving...’_ _

__‘And you still could have,’ Reece interrupted, ‘but you didn’t. Why not?’_ _

__Henry opened his mouth and then closed it. Jo suspected that this was the first time Henry had been asked that question._ _

__‘I…I don’t know,’ he stammered. ‘I guess I wanted to stay.’_ _

__Reece was not satisfied, ‘I would guess that you have had to flee a good many places you wanted to stay.’ She leaned in, ‘why was this time different?’_ _

__Henry scowled, and narrowed his eyes at Reece, ‘I trusted Abigail,’ Henry finally said._ _

__‘That’s not good enough, ‘ Reece clearly dismissed this as an answer. Henry gawped and opened his hands. Jo felt for him, she also had not idea what Reece wanted him to say either._ _

__‘You have been alive for over two hundred years, Doctor Morgan.’ She stated, ‘And you expect me to believe that you have only trusted two people in that entire time?’_ _

__‘No,’ Henry backpedaled, ‘of course not.’_ _

__‘What about James?’_ _

__Henry paused, wide-eyed, and looked at the Lieutenant. ‘James?’_ _

__Reece nodded, ‘James, your colleague and friend in New York. You worked together for years and were his only regular visitor after he fell ill.’ Reece waited until it was clear Henry had placed who she was talking about. ‘Did you trust him?’ She asked._ _

__Henry still seemed a bit shell-shocked by the questions being thrown at him, ‘Yes,’ he muttered, ‘James and I were very good friends. I trusted him.’_ _

__‘And did you tell him?’ Henry mutely shook his head._ _

__‘And you have had other friends?’ She pressed, ‘Ones that you trusted?’_ _

__Henry rubbed his eyes, and ran a hand through is hair. ‘Lieutenant…’ Henry was almost pleading._ _

__Reece cut him off again, ‘Answer the damn question, Henry.’ She demanded.  
‘Have you had other friends in the past two hundred years that you trusted?’ _ _

__For one long moment Henry and the Lieutenant were locked in a staring match. But for all his skills, Henry was not a trained detective or interrogator. Jo could see him give in, his chin dropped slightly and his shoulders curve forward._ _

__‘Of course I have, Lieutenant.’ He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose again. Jo recognized this as a habit of his - he always did this when he was frustrated._ _

__‘And did you tell them?’_ _

__‘No.’_ _

__Reese paused, ‘Why not?’_ _

__Henry leaned back from the table and gave Reece a frank stare. ‘Because there was no point. Even the best of relationships for me are limited. People age Lieutenant and I don’t. So I have to leave before people notice that I don’t get any older.’_ _

__‘Then why did you stay with Abigail?’_ _

__Henry frustration was getting more apparent, ‘Abigail was different’ He sat back in his chair and scowled at Reece._ _

__‘How?’_ _

__A measured exhale, ‘She just was.’_ _

__‘How,’ it was clear that Reece wasn’t going to let it go._ _

__Henry took a few deep breaths, his eyes were open but turned inward. Jo got the impression that he was reliving memories and had a sudden realization that that was likely what he was doing when he got lost in thought. So many years of memories, no wonder Henry knew so much._ _

__‘Doctor Morgan,’ Reece prompted, her voice was taking on a kinder note, though Jo wasn’t sure what angle Reece was pursuing. Jo wondered if she was getting what she wanted._ _

__‘I saw a future with Abigail.’ Henry blurted. ‘If you are like … me,’ he gestured vaguely to himself, ‘and you see a future with someone…I couldn’t leave’_ _

__‘You loved her, didn’t you,’ This was more of a statement by the Lieutenant than a question._ _

__‘Of course I did,’ Henry voice was rough, ‘Abigail is…was…a much better person that I will ever be.’ He took several deep breaths and then leaned back from the table. Henry paused, gathering his thoughts, ‘I died in her arms and reappeared in the middle of the night but she didn’t ask me what I was, or how this had happened. She didn’t ask me questions I couldn’t answer. She just held me in her arms like she was never going to let me go. What I was…’ Henry angrily gestured to himself again, ‘didn’t matter. What mattered was who I was.’_ _

__Reese paused while Henry collected himself. ‘She sounds like a remarkable woman.’ Reese’s voice was respectful._ _

__After a pause Henry quietly agreed, ‘She was.’_ _

__‘And that is the same reason you stayed with Abraham?’ It wasn’t really a question but Henry nodded anyway, ‘he is my son. He deserves to have a father.’_ _

__‘So you have only, in the past two hundred years, told the whole story to three people,’ Reece ticked them off on her fingers, ‘Nora, Abigail, and Abe.’_ _

__With a furrowed brow, Henry nodded. ‘What is your point, Lieutenant?’ He asked, equal parts annoyed and curious._ _

__‘So it isn’t trust or love that causes you to stay, is it?’ she continued, ‘its people you see a future with. People who will be around long enough to notice that you don’t age.’ Reece considered Henry ‘Truly special people. People you can’t bear the thought of leaving behind.’ Henry did not say anything, he just rubbed his hands over his face, discombobulated with this conversation._ _

__‘Doctor Morgan, were you planning on telling Detective Martinez about your immortality?’ Reece asked suddenly._ _

__Henry froze, his eyes locked on the Lieutenant’s. After a few silent moments he dropped his arms and interlaced his fingers before placing them gently on the table. For a moment, he made as though he was going to speak but he paused and instead pursed his lips._ _

__‘Yes,’ was Henry’s measured response. ‘I was planning on telling her,’ he tilted his head at Reece, ‘But you already knew that.’_ _

__‘Yes I did.’ Reece acknowledged. ‘You were going to tell her because you see a future with her. She is one of the special ones.’_ _

__Jo was glad that neither Henry nor the Lieutenant could see her. She was sure she was a sight, with her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. She fully expected Henry to scoff at the Lieutenant’s conclusion and come up with some elaborate explanation for why he was going to tell Jo when he had told so few others._ _

__But Henry didn’t contradict the Lieutenant. Instead he just held her gaze and gave a slight nod of his head. Jo couldn’t tell if he was acknowledging Reece’s statement or giving her credit for a game well played. She supposed it didn’t matter._ _


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to extend a warm thank you to everyone who has sent me messages about the last few chapters. Your feedback and input are very much appreciated.

Henry strode from one end of the room to the other. It was exactly eight paces in either direction. He mostly kept his eyes on the carpet, which was one of those indiscriminate greys ubiquitous in office building worldwide. He was being kept in what had likely been a corner office at some point in time. It was even equipped with its own bathroom, though he still ended up being escorted to the locker-like facilities on a different floor for when he wanted to shower. 

The room had a military style cot in one corner and a practical table and two chairs placed along one wall. If the windows had ever opened, they no longer did and the door had a lock, but it was on the outside. Other than the sparse furniture, air of imprisonment, and ugly carpet, the only other feature the room boasted was a striking view of New York. 

Henry paused and looked out the window. They were on the tenth floor and high enough that in some places he was able to get a good view of the city at night. He didn’t know why, but he loved New York. Iteration after iteration, decade after decade, regardless of how much both he and it changed he had always felt home here. He scoffed quietly to himself as he walked closer to the glass. Well, he felt as much at home as he could for a man who was simply living out of his time. And that was certainly how he felt right now: out of time. 

From his vantage point, the city was glorious, especially at night. The darkness seemed to hide the dirtier aspects of the city, dampening its daytime chaos and panic-tinged excesses. It was counter-intuitive, but it was at night when Henry could most often feel the city’s soul. Here he was, standing at a window looking out over millions of strangers. He found an inexplicable comfort in the fact that there was very likely someone else standing at another window looking back at him. It made Henry feel normal, even if only for a moment. 

His mind turned to Abraham. He knew that Abraham was okay, and that he knew where Henry was. But Henry wanted to see him with his own eyes. To reassure himself that the one constant in the past 70 years was still there. Still safe. If he was truly honest with himself, he also wanted a chance to say goodbye, and for a brief moment Henry fought back tears. He had never expected to be a father and it had turned out to be the most remarkable thing to ever happen to him. And that was saying something. He wanted to be there for Abraham, just as Abraham has always been there for him. He didn’t want to miss a single moment but Abe was not getting any younger and those moments were slipping away. Henry had long since abandoned worrying about his own death and had instead focused, to an admittedly unhealthy extent, upon the future deaths of others. 

Henry was sunk deep into his musings when a knock on the door drew his attention. The knock was timid, and unlike the courtesy knocks of the agents before then walked in weather he invited them or not, this knock was waiting for an answer. For the week that he had been a ‘guest’ here, no on had ever knocked like that. And certainly he had received no visitors at this hour, as it was well past nine. Henry waited a few more beats to see if anyone would enter but the door remained firmly closed. 

‘Come in,’ he called, his moroseness evaporating with curiosity. The door swung open and the light of the room cast angled shadows across Jo’s cheekbones. It also illuminated the darkly clad agent stationed just outside of Henry’s room. She quickly stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. 

Henry’s eyes drank her in. He had honestly thought after his admission in the interview room today that he would never see her again. Her appearance here was an unexpected respite, one that caused him a stab of pain as he anticipated her loss. He knew that she had had and long day, and she looked it. Her normally orderly eye make up was starting to fade and smudges of mascara were dusting shadows under her eyes. Her dress shirt and slacks both bore the brunt of creases earned over a day of activity. Henry knew he looked much the same. He had abandoned his jacket and while he was still wearing his waistcoat it was unbuttoned and loose. His normally groomed facial hair was long past his usual ‘fastidious’ style and was starting to become a proper beard. He had requested a razor and been promptly denied, and the promised electric substitute had not yet materialized. 

‘Hello Henry,’ she said, standing awkwardly just a few feet from the doorway. Henry forcefully pulled himself together, _where were his manners?_

‘Detective,’ he greeted with as casual a smile as he could muster. He fully turned from the window and took a few steps towards her. He would like to offer her a coffee or a tea, but the most he could offer Jo was one of the two chairs standing at attention around the desk. ‘Please, sit down,’ he invited. 

Jo unexpectedly smiled at him. She walked over to the desk but instead of sitting down she perched her hip on the edge of the table and cast what could only be an amused glance in his direction. Henry had seen her take this same stance and give him this same look dozens of times back at the precinct. Usually when he was being particularly useful, or particularly annoying. As a student of the human condition, he was generally quite good at reading people but he was unable to tell how Jo felt. He also had no idea what to say to her. Henry shuffled his feet and then stuffed his hands in his pockets. He looked up briefly and caught Jo watching him. He glanced away only to immediately look back and survey her features. Was she trying not to laugh?

Seeing that she had Henry’s attention Jo resettled her weight and crossed her arms. ‘So you have a crush on me, do you?’ she asked. People didn’t often tease Henry, but he had a suspicion he was being teased. Jo was smiling, a real smile that ended at the corner of her eyes. 

‘Jo, I…’ Henry stammered. He could feel warmth spreading up his neck and into his ears at the same time that something that had been curled tight and heavy in his chest started to loosen. 

‘Can you even get crushes after two hundred years? Don’t you grow out of that or something?’ Henry blinked at her, and Jo gave him an aghast face at the prospect of Henry having a crush on anybody. His eyes narrowed, she was teasing him. 

‘I’m 235 Jo, not dead,’ Henry responded without thinking. Only to clamp his mouth shut upon realizing that he had just admitted _again_ that he had feelings for Jo. He let out a heavy breathe and, turning from Jo, paced the remaining 4 of the 8 steps across the room to the bed. He turned back towards her before folding himself down to sit on the bed. Jo was no longer smiling, but rather attentive. She was clearly waiting for Henry to speak. 

‘Jo,’ he started again, ‘I am sorry if I have made you uncomfortable. That was not my intention. Nor was it my intention to have such an audience privy to my…ahhh….’ Henry waved his hand in a vague circular motion.

‘Feelings for me,’ Jo helpfully supplied, one eyebrow raised.

Henry huffed and sat further back on the bed, propping one stocking foot on the mattress and leaning his back against the wall. He folded his hands around his knee and let his other leg stretch out in front of him. 

‘I wouldn’t worry too much about that Henry,’ Jo’s continued. She still had a slight smile on her lips, which is seemed to Henry to be totally incongruous to the conversation they were having. ‘It turns out that we have not been as discrete as we thought we were.’ 

‘What are you talking about?’ Henry puzzled. And what did she mean by ‘discrete’? There had been nothing to be discrete about. 

Jo placed her hands on either side of her hips and leaned back onto the table, clearly getting comfortable. ‘I just got done speaking to Mike. Turns out there is a pool going on at the 11th estimating when you and I will finally, and I quote, ‘get over ourselves and hook up’.’ Jo’s smile had morphed into a full on grin at the look of horror crossing Henry’s face, ‘Mike insists that we owe him $20 because he had bet on us getting together months ago.’ 

‘Surely, you must be joking.’ Henry was looking directly at Jo now. His question was rhetorical, he knew she wasn’t. While he was scandalized (though not surprised) that people were talking about him behind his back, he hated the idea that Jo has somehow been drawn into anything such as this. For her part, however, she seemed to be taking it with good humor. Then again, she had been in law enforcement for a long time and police departments were notorious for gossip. He had heard it quipped more than once that NYPD stood for ‘New York Police Drama’ and that life in the department could often be characterized as a soap opera except that the guns were real, not one ever really go amnesia, and there was no coming back from the dead. 

Henry sighed, thunked his head against the wall, and gave a ghost of a smile. It was nice to have Jo here, under any circumstances. And it was nice to speak to her. 

He wasn’t even upset, even though he knew he could be. Jo was right, his feeling for her had clearly been more obvious than he had thought, though to be honest he had not even admitted to himself the depth of his relationship to Jo – however one-sided it may be. 

When Jo had come into the interview room earlier that day he had wanted to tell her the truth, he felt he owed her that. And in a way it was freeing to have all of his secrets exposed. To know that he no longer had to hide who and what he was simply because he couldn’t. He had been deceiving people for so long that honesty felt both unnatural and daring. So he had told her the truth, thinking he couldn’t possibly cause her any more harm. 

Lieutenant Reece had obviously banked on this and her knowledge of his infatuation with Jo in order to back him into a corner. The last person to get the better of him like that had been Adam. Henry was impressed but he was also befuddled. First he had gotten the cryptic message from Mike that Reece wanted him to ‘be nice,’ and then she seems to have gone through a great deal of trouble to get him to admit to, of all things, having fallen in love with a co-worker. He suspected she had a plan but was completely in the dark about what it could possibly be. Other than making him look like a fool, that is.

Jo shifted her weight and drew Henry out of his thoughts. She was still looking at him but seemed in no rush to push the conversation forward. 

‘Did you know?’ Henry asked her before he could stop himself. 

Jo considered the question, clearly understanding his meaning, and took her time responding. She slowly nodded her head, ‘In retrospect, yes. I knew that you enjoyed my company, and that I certainly enjoyed yours.’ She paused and Henry tilted his head in an invitation for her to continue. Jo obliged. ‘Hearing that you were immortal was a surprise, but this wasn’t. I thought you were being reckless with your life, or that you were even suicidal. But it turns out you were putting yourself in danger so that I wouldn’t have to. In most cases I would call that misogynistic but it think it has less to do with the fact that I an a women and you are a man and more to do with the fact that you can’t die. Or at least you won’t stay dead.’

It was Henry’s turn to nod – there was truth in what she was saying. It was bizarre to hear Jo speak about his immortality as through it was one of his pesky, but ultimately overlook-able, neuroses.

‘What I want to know,’ Jo continued, ‘Is did you know?’

It was a good question, and one that Henry realized that he had no clear answer for. ‘Was I aware that I had feeling for you?’ Jo nodded for Henry to continue. ‘Yes, I was. For longer than I care to admit. I am well aware of the fact that I am a hopeless romantic.’ Henry gave her a smile, then filled his lungs and gathered his courage. Perhaps it was the drastic uncertainty of the future but he wanted to be brave; he needed to be honest.

‘But did I know that I had fallen in love with you? No. Not until today when I was speaking with Lieutenant Reece.’ As he spoke Henry closed his eyes, he could not predict Jo’s reaction and found that he almost wanted to remain ignorant of her true feeling. 

‘She is a perceptive woman, the lieutenant.’ Jo said softly from in front of him. 

‘Hmmmmmm’ agreed Henry, his eyes still closed. That she was, and he wasn’t just thinking of the Lieutenant. 

“How do you know you are in love with me, Henry?’ Jo asked. The question seemed driven by curiosity and did not hold the disbelief or scorn that Henry was expecting. Before he could muster a reply, Jo continued. ‘I mean, we have never even been on an official date.’

Henry smiled at that comment. While they had not been on a ‘date’ _per se_ , he and Jo had spent a significant amount of time together, much more than was strictly necessary even given their differing job duties. 

‘I suppose we haven’t,’ Henry acknowledged, ‘but I would certainly consider us friends and I assume you would too.’ He was gratified to see Jo nod in agreement almost before he had finished. ‘Jo,’ he continued, ‘before I wed Nora we had met a total of four times and always in public or in the presence of a chaperone. The first time we were alone in a room together was on our wedding night.’ Henry watched Jo’s face go from interest to incredulous and he almost burst out laughing. He had forgotten how terribly out-of-date such an approach was in terms of courtship in the 21st Century. 

‘Your first marriage was arranged???’ Jo clarified, her eyebrows creeping up towards her hairline. 

‘Oh yes, it was quite common and our families believed we were a good match,’ Henry was smiling now, thinking back on those joyous times. Both he and Nora had been so filled with hope for the future. ‘Arranged or not, by our second meeting I knew that I was in love with her. And I also believe she was in love with me. After she was informed of my death on the Empress of Africa, I believe her grief was real, as was her joy in seeing me again. Though it took a long time, I have also come to believe that she though she was doing what was best for me when she sent me to Bedlam, regardless of how that experience turned out.’ Henry realized that he was wandering and he paused a moment to gather his thoughts and pull himself back on track. 

‘I knew I was in love with Abigail the moment I saw her. Before I even knew her name.’ Henry paused and forcefully pulled himself out of them memory of the first time he had Abigail and Abraham, all that smoke and dust. ‘What I mean to say, Jo, is that I have had enough experience to know when someone is special to me.’ 

Henry’s gaze rested with Jo’s, but their looks no longer skated away from each other. Henry had finally told her the truth, she now knew everything, and for this moment at least the scales were even. 

‘So where do we go from here?’ Jo asked.

Henry shrugged and glanced around the corner, entertaining the banal thought that this was likely going to be the only corner office he would ever be in. 

‘I don’t know, Jo.’ He wanted to reassure her but couldn’t. ‘I imagine that I know even less than you do. Agent Marquez certainly has not felt the need to share his plans for me with me.’

‘Lieutenant Reece is doing what she can,’ Jo assured. 

‘And do you know what that is?’ Henry countered. 

Jo didn’t, and she shook her head as an answer. A silence welled up between them, reaching its arms out to gather them together. For a rare instance Henry was content to just share the same moment, and occupy the same space, as someone. 

Jo seemed comfortable too, and they remained where they were, quiet, for several minutes before she straitened from her perch against the table and walked over to the bed. She then slipped off her shoes and folded her long legs up underneath her, sitting down on the bed just a few feet from Henry. 

‘Can I ask you a question, Henry?’ she asked.

Henry raised an eyebrow, ‘of course, Jo.’

‘Will you tell me about you life?’

Henry didn’t know why, but he was surprised by this questions. ‘If you wish,’ he replied, then feeling like he wanted to get in some teasing in of his own, he added, ‘which one would you like to hear about?’

Jo rolled her eyes, as he had meant her to, and then replied with a steadfast, ‘all of them,’ was her stead fast response. 

Henry made a show of getting more comfortable and settling himself back against the wall. 

‘Well,’ he said, ‘It’s a long story…’


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. I got distracted by other stories and it took some encourage for me to get back to this one. It will be finished eventually, I promise!

Agent Marquez wasn’t sure what to expect when he finally met Abraham Morgan, but it wasn’t the sturdy 70-something old man who shook his hand and then reeled him in and asked him if Henry had gotten on his nerves yet. Abraham had then winked at him and let him go before saying, ‘it usually only takes him a day,’ before sitting himself in the chair across the table and making a show of getting himself comfortable. 

Even before Marquez could get himself situated, Mr. Morgan has fixed him with a keen stare and asked, ‘So when are you going to let my dad go?’

‘Ahhhh..’ Marquez started, taken aback at the direct question. ‘Mr Morgan…’ he started. 

Mr Morgan interrupted him. ‘Good gracious, don’t Mr. Morgan me. The name is Abe,’ he waved his hand as though he were dissipating all of the formality in the room. ‘And don’t tell me that you are going to keep him here until you determine he isn’t a threat. Henry wouldn’t hurt a fly. He has always had a compulsion to take care of things, that’s why he is a doctor.’ With that statement, Abe lapsed into silence, waiting expectantly for Agent Marquez to answer. He may have had the curmudgeon-y-old man thing going for him, but Abe also had a piercing stare. 

Marquez took a moment to recalibrate his thoughts 

‘Mr Morgan,’ he started, only to be stopped by the raise of one caterpillar-like grey eyebrow, ‘Abe,’ he tried again and proceeded when he received a satisfied nod. ‘You have to understand that this is an unusual situation.’

‘Unusual how?’ Abe asked.

‘Well,’ Marquez suddenly felt silly stating the obvious, ‘because your father is immortal.’

Abe shrugged his shoulders, ‘How is that unusual?’ He asked, and then got a pensive look, ‘I have known that Henry is immortal for almost 60 years, if anything, that is normal to me. I know my pops is a bit weird, but that hardly qualifies him for federal intervention.’

‘Abe, listen,’ Marquez started again, ‘I understand that you are upset, but it is my job and my duty to this country to make sure that you father isn’t a threat to this nation.’

Abe nodded but also looked perplexed. ‘How on God’s green earth can you think that Henry is a threat to anybody?’ He asked, and from what Marquez could tell it was an honest question. ‘The only threat Henry is, is to himself, given his penchant for getting himself into trouble.’

When Marquez didn’t answer right away Abe’s demeanour become more serious, ‘Agent Marquez, I understand that you are doing your job and that it is normal to be suspicious of things that we don’t understand or cannot explain, but I have literally known Henry my entire life and he has never been a threat to anybody.’ 

Abe paused and then started to roll up his sleeves, ‘Do you know how Henry and I met, Agent Marquez?’ He asked.

Marquez nodded, ‘I do, he adopted you in 1945 after you were rescued from one of the concentration camps in Poland.’ 

‘That is correct,’ Abraham said, ‘and did you know difficult it was for Henry to adopt me?” Abe look Marquez’s lack of response as a negative.

“It was at the end of a war,’ Abe started, ‘a war that Henry had wanted no part of and one that he has spent the better part of 4 years trying to avoid. But then, for some reason, he decided that there was something about me that was worth saving.’ Abe’s sleeves were fully rolled up by now and Marquez could clearly seen the tattoo on his forearm, still visible despite all the wear of age and history. ‘Imagine how tired you would be at the end of a war,’ Abe asked rhetorically, ‘how much you would just want to go home. But Henry didn’t go home, even after he could have. He stayed in Poland along with Abigail and worked at a hospital helping people from the camps.’ Marquez found it strange hearing someone speak about this part of history in the first person, it was like having a black-and-white movie suddenly showing in colour. . He nodded at Abe to continue. 

‘Now this would have been in 1945, so Henry would have been about 166 years old. Which means he had already seen death. He had already had a family, already served in more than one war. He could have ignored all of this, moved on, said it was not his problem, and gone home. He could have washed his hands of the whole wretched mess, but he didn’t. And you know why he didn’t?’ Abe asked. Marquez shook his head – he truthfully had no idea. The other immortals he had dealt with, by and large, had given up on mankind. Usually after their families died or they were forced to go into hiding. It was hard to care for a society that you could not longer ever truly be a part of. Most of them had stopped trying. 

Abe’s words drew him back. ‘He entered into the war for the same reason he stayed in Poland after it was over. Because he has to help people, he has to. With Henry it isn’t a choice, it is a compulsion. And as much as he would claim that he is above such things, he isn’t. And somewhere in that nightmare he saw me, and decided that I was someone he could help. And he has been the best father a man could ask for, and has been for the past 72 years.’ 

Abe paused, and again caught Marquez’s eye. Marquez realized that he had hardly said anything during this entire interview. It looked like he didn’t need to, as Abe spoke again, ‘do you have any evidence that Henry is a danger?’ he asked. ‘Because I can spend all day telling you stories of how he isn’t. He has had over two hundred years of immortality to grow cold to the troubles of mankind, but he hasn’t. And, to be honest, I don’t think he ever will. That is why he tries so hard to push people away. And I think maybe that is why he is trying to find a way to die.’ Marquez had known that Henry had been looking into understanding his immortality, but it still shocked him to know that Henry’s son was aware of his father’s death wish. 

‘Henry does it because he can’t stop caring, and he needs to have the reassurance that at some point in time he has a way out. His obsession with figuring out how to die was bad after mom left and it got even worse after he met Adam. Not because he wanted to kill Adam, but he wanted to make sure that he would not live long enough to become like him.’ 

Marquez saw his opening, ‘Your father has killed someone,’ he stated. 

‘Yes, he has,’ Abe’s agreement was bland. 

‘How can you say he isn’t threat if he has committed murder?’ Marquez pressed. 

Abe was surprisingly unconcerned by Marquez’s accusation, instead Abe simply said, ‘Henry would have let Clive Owen kill him.’

‘What?’ Marquez interjected, ‘Well, that is certainly not what happened.’

‘No, it’s not,’ Abe agreed again. ‘Henry stabbed Clive Owen to protect me. If I had not come home, chances are Henry would have died and no one would have been the wiser.’

‘And why would he have done that?’ It was only after the statement that Marquez realized he was actually starting to defend Henry’s choice to kill Owens. 

‘Because, for whatever reason, immortality has made Henry value the lives of mortals over his own. Whereas most of us, including you, seem to think that the reverse has happened.’

Marquez did not dispute this assumption. 

‘Abe,’ he replied, ‘Why did you insist on this interview?’

‘It’s simple,’ came the reply, ‘I want you to understand that my father is a person. Just like anyone else. And I won’t bore you with talk of human rights or the judicial process, since I am sure that won’t make a difference to you. So instead, I want to encourage you to talk to Henry. If you really want to know if he is a threat to anybody, talk to him. And talk to the people who know him. If you want to know Henry, find out how he always managed to get himself killed.’

Marquez studied Abe for a moment. He had to admit, he was impressed by the man, who had obviously lived a very interesting life. He was also intrigued by the questions Abe proposed. He found himself nodding slowly. “Very well, Mister Morgan. I will make sure my investigation is very through.”

‘Abe,’ Abe corrected, ‘And I am sure you will find it enlightening.’ 

 

\----

Lucas twitched nervously in his chair. He wasn’t sure exactly where he wanted to be instead of here, but he was sure that just about anywhere would be better than this. 

Ugh…all interrogation rooms looked alike. And they all had the universal effect of making people not want to talk. The time ticked by and Lucas started to mess with the drawstrings of his scrubs. He wished he had taken the time to change. He was always unpleasantly sweaty and he was assuredly sweating through the pits of his shirt. He was pretty sure he wasn’t guilty of whatever they were accusing him of, but they would only have to take one look at him like this and decide he was guilty as hell. Unless they were accusing him of illegal downloading…they didn’t arrest you for that, did they?

No. He was pretty sure the reason he was here was because of Henry. Henry, who had taken an unexpected leave of absence over a week ago, and hadn’t been seen since. He had not left any instructions and he had not mentioned leaving and, despite Henry’s general odd-ness, Lucas was worried.

Especially since things had been weird before Henry had left. Both Mike and Jo, who Lucas got along well with, had been acting super weird. He had been willing to write if off as his social awkwardness but it has been obvious enough that the other techs, and even Henry, had picked it up. Not that Henry would have said anything. He wasn’t the kind of man to gossip. Instead he had just quirked an eyebrow (which was Henry for ‘that’s odd’) when Hansen had beat yet another hasty retreat from the morgue. After Henry has been gone a week, Lucas had gone up to the detectives’ offices only to find that both Jo and Mike were on some sort of ‘special assignment,’ and had been for several weeks. Lieutenant Reece’s glare after she had told him that much had not invited any other questions. Lucas had even called Abe’s Antiques, but uncharacteristically, the older man had not answered.

And now he was here. In a creepy, stuffy, ugly, room waiting to talk to someone about Henry. At least that is what Jo had said when she had called him at the station and told him to meet her at the curb. She had then told him to get in the car, and that she has someone for him to meet. Yeah…totally not weird at all. Except he had seen this movie (and dozens of others like it), regardless of the genre it never ended well for the guy in his position. 

Lucas was concerned that some heavy was going to come into the room and smash his knee caps before demanding to know where Henry was, even though he had no idea. Just as this thought crossed his mind, the door clicked gently open. He let out a startled yelp and whirled in it’s direction, almost toppling himself from his chair. 

Lucas let out a sigh of relief when he saw that it was just Detective Hansen but felt his shoulders tighten when Hansen was followed in by someone Lucas didn’t recognize. Someone who totally looked like he worked for the Men in Black. 

Both men made their way around the table and Lucas remembered at the last second to stand up and offer his hand, but he moved to quickly and only managed to smack the tops of his thighs on the underside of the table, which caused him to fall awkwardly back into his seat. He ended up shaking hand in an awkward half crouch only to realize that his hand was unpleasantly sweaty; a point driven home when the MIB agent tried surreptitiously to wipe his hand off on his trousers.

Hansen rolled his eyes, which actually made Lucas feel a bit better, and the other man just blinked at Lucas before settling himself into the chair across from Lucas. Hansen sat also, and MIB set two file folders onto the desk. One was thick-to-bursting and the other thin and flexible.

“Am I under arrest?” Lucas burst out, before either man could open their mouths.

“Lucas…” Hansen already sounded exasperated. 

Lucas didn’t give him the chance to finish, “Because I swear I got those movies legally and that, seriously, who is going to want to protect the copy rights of Killer Bikini Babes from Mars because…”

‘Lucas!’

Lucas shut his mouth with a small click as his teeth snapped together. It wasn’t like Hansen to yell. Oh no, he must really be in trouble. But Hansen didn’t look angry, his eyes were pointed towards the ceiling like he was seeking intervention or guidance, but when he looked at Lucas he just looked…sad.

‘Lucas,’ he started again is a softer voice, ‘You are not in any trouble. We have asked you here today because we are hoping you can help by answering some questions.

‘Of course!’ Lucas nodded, eager to please (or maybe just happy to not be the one in trouble).

Hansen took a deep breath and then turned his gaze to the smaller man next to him. ‘This is Agent Marquez, he works with the Department of Citizen Monitoring, which is a sub-division of the Department of Homeland Security. He would like to ask you a few questions about Dr. Morgan.’

Lucas blinked, clearly taken aback by the long titles following Marquez’s introduction. But he finally caught on.

‘Henry?’ He gaped. ‘You want to ask me about Henry?’

Marquez nodded and then leaned forward before reaching towards the thinner of the two folders. 

‘Oh GOD!’ Lucas cried ‘He hasn’t been murdered, has he? I haven’t seen him in over a week and he was totally acting really strange for the last month or so.’ He glanced at the folder. ‘Don’t show me that! If those are photos I don’t want to see!’ Changing tracks more quickly then anyone else could follow, Lucas turned his gaze to Hansen, ‘Why are you on this case? If he was killed in our precinct I would have heard about it...”

‘Lucas!’ 

‘I’m sorry! I’m just upset! Henry was like a father…’/ ‘Henry is just fine!’ Hansen overrode Lucas’s ongoing breakdown-in-progress. 

‘Oh.’ Lucas was instantly back to looking wary, ‘alright, what do you want to know?’

Agent Marquez has watched this entire exchange with silent scrutiny. Lucas was not sure if the man thought he was an idiot, was if he was planning on how to make Lucas’s body disappear. 

‘Lucas,’ Marquez started calmly (okay, he had gone with the idiot option), ‘how long have you known Dr Morgan?’

‘Uhhh…I have known Henry for about 3 years.’ 

Marquez referenced the thin folder and Lucas could see that it was his personnel file from the department. Why did a federal agent have his personnel file???

‘And how did you find Dr. Morgan?’

This was an easy answer, ‘Weird,’ he stated. And then realizing how that could be taken he quickly amended, ‘in a good way. And brilliant!’

‘What do you mean in a good way?’ Marquez asked. 

‘Well,’ Lucas had no idea how to explain it, ‘Henry has a way with the dead, it’s like they talk to him. He can sometimes figure out the cause of death even before he has performed an autopsy.’

Marquez nodded, ‘And how else was Dr. Morgan ‘weird’?’ 

‘The man is like a modern-day Sherlock Holmes, but with scarves. Seriously, how many people can tell someone was poisioned just by the smell?? I can’t even tell when milk has gone back.’ Lucas paused, but in the nanosecond of what her perceived to be unbearable uncomfortable silence, he contined. ‘And..ummm…he recently started to get really involved in our cases. I mean, even more so than usual. He didn’t used to like to talk to victim’s families – said it made it too personal, but he ended up talking to this one family and all the sudden he became convinced that she hadn’t committed suicide. I mean, that is what the initial ruling was, suicide.’

Lucas shook his head slightly to himself, like he could shake his thoughts into order. ‘What I mean to say is that he actually climbed up onto the bridge where she allegedly jumped to see if he could find evidence of foul play. He could have died!’

For some reason both Marquez and Hansen shifted uncomfortably at this comment. He assumed they were just as worried about Henry’s lack of self-preservation as he was. 

‘But it turns out, he was right! It was murder! And it was insane that he figured it out. And then we had another case like it – where Henry kept pushing. And he was right again. I figured he was just getting weirder, what with having to kill his stalker and everything. But since he was right, I guess it was okay.’

Lucas paused and took a few deep breaths, but both men just kept looking at him. 

‘Uhhh….Then there was the thing with the pugio…’ Lucas trailed off suddenly, and if anything actually started to look more nervous. 

But neither man was an idiot. ‘What do you mean ‘that thing’. What thing with the Pugio?’ Marquez pressed. 

Lucas pursed his lips in the I-won’t-tell-you-under-torture grimace before quickly blurting ‘Henry was obsessed. He kept bringing it up, case after case. For some reason he took that case personally. Like, even more personally that then other cases. He seemed kinda freaked out...’ Lucas trailed off.

Marquez nodded, then flipped through some of the pages in the file. ‘Is this the pugio dagger that disappeared after you checked it out of evidence?’  
Lucas only glanced at the picture before he nodded slowly. 

‘How did you feel when you found out that Dr. Morgan has taken the dagger from the lab.’ Lucas failed, miserably, to hide his wince. Marquez looked pleased. 

‘Dr Morgan didn’t steal the dagger,’ Lucas mumbled, sounding sure about something for the first time.

‘I know you want to think that Lucas, particularly since he is your friend. But, if he didn’t steal the dagger from the morgue, how did he get it?’ Marquez pressed what he clearly saw as an advantage. 

There was a long and increasingly pregnant pause, fractured only by the squirmy movements which seemed to be all that composed Lucas’s body. Lucas was suddenly very interested in an invisible spot on his pant leg. 

It was actually Hansen who spoke first, after bracing his fingers on the bridge of his nose. The tone of his voice said that he had correctly interpreted Lucas’s silence. ‘Oh Lucas…’

Lucas grimaced from beneath his shaggy hair. Looking at Hansen and then Marquez. ‘Henry had the dagger because I gave it to him.’ Lucas said to the table-top.

Marquez blinked at him, which Lucas figured must be his way of conveying surprise, while Hansen continued rubbed the bridge of his nose. Hansen didn’t look surprised.

‘And why would you do that?’ Marquez’s eyebrows were scrunched together. ‘You knew he wasn’t supposed to have it.’ Lucas nodded miserably. 

‘Yeah, I knew…But…Doctor Morgan has been one of the few people in my life to treat me like I really matter. He even took the fall for me when I got tricked by a pretty reporter because he knew that while he would get a reprimand, I would get fired. He is weird, there is no doubt about it, but where it matters he is a good man. He always kept pushing on cases where he didn’t think the victim’s had gotten justice. He didn’t need to. Hell, in some cases it got him in trouble. I figured that whatever Henry was involved in, it must be something important, and whatever I could do to help him…well…I figured I owed him that.’

Lucas looked exhausted at his confession and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t have anything to say. 

‘Did Doctor Morgan coerce you in any way to get him the dagger?’ Hansen asked. 

‘No,’ Lucas said while actually managing to look aghast, ‘he actually asked me if I was sure, and reminded me that I would get in trouble – like I didn’t already know.’ Lucas slunk further into his seat. It was impossible tell how tall he was given that only his shoulders and head stuck up past the edge of the table. 

Marquez let out an audible sigh, and then reached out to the much thicker and larger folder. He flipped it open to the first page, which Lucas could see had a picture of Henry on it, but dressed in funny old clothes and in black and white. ‘Alright,’ Marquez started, ‘what else can you tell us about Dr. Morgan.’


End file.
